


East of Eden

by WriteSprite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Biting, Dirty Talk, Drinking Games, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Parseltongue, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteSprite/pseuds/WriteSprite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry receives a dodgy brochure for an island vacation, he isn't sure he should attend. After a bit of a push, he decides to go for it and winds up spending the week in paradise. At least it would be, if it weren't for that pesky blond git.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's Go to Eden!

**Author's Note:**

> East of Eden is a novel by John Steinbeck. My story has nothing to do with that. It's actually more similar to Exit to Eden, an American movie from which I borrowed the premise of Eden Island.

The glossy brochure for Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort was neatly tucked away on the desk in Harry's downstairs office. It was _not_ , as Harry would argue, buried under various reports from work, heavy reference books, and several Disillusionment Charms.

He wasn't hiding it. That was ridiculous. Why should he want to squirrel away the scantily clad witches and wizards that graced the front cover as if embarrassed of them? He wasn't embarrassed. He just didn't want anyone to see it in his house. He was being considerate and chivalrous and...er...politically correct?

It didn't matter though, because no matter how much he tried (or didn't try) to hide that bloody advertisement, it kept elbowing it's way to the forefront of his thoughts during inopportune moments. It seemed to flutter right before his eyes when Girardi at the office told him about his date the night before. And during an innocuous shower, he found himself musing that it would be so much easier to go to a place where he could lower his inhibitions instead of trolling for a good lay amongst the weirdos and cougars who generally tried to get in his pants.

A week later, the thoughts were still there and decided to make a guest appearance during Harry's weekly get-together with George, Hermione, and Ron.

"So things didn't go so well with Jason?" Hermione asked lightly as the four were gathered at Harry's house, spoiling their appetites on junk food.

Harry took a moment to munch on a biscuit before shrugging his shoulders. "Not really," he replied with a grimace.

"Wouldn't put out, eh Harry?" George asked cheekily, returning to the den from his venture to the kitchen and sitting on a cushy armchair by the glass patio door.

"Harry," Hermione scolded. "You shouldn't be judging your prospects based on whether they sleep with you on the first date! Don't you want to meet someone special, not just a warm body?"

Before Harry could open his mouth to respond, Ron chimed in. "Mione, I would think at this point he just has some needs to be met, right mate?"

"It _has_ been a while," he mumbled reluctantly.

"Been so long you're wondering if they've changed it?" George quipped.

Harry flushed, but nodded nonetheless. A fact was a fact and it had been ages, far too long really, since he'd last had sex.

"I think what you need is a nice blind date. One of your close friends to set you up and let things progress at a natural pace," Hermione chipped in seriously.

"Or, he could get away to a nice little island where everyone is looking to get their jollies. Then he wouldn't have to worry about all that dating shit." George looked at Harry pointedly as though sending telepathic reminders of the brochure stashed on his desk. His heart rate picked up.

Hermione's brow furrowed in frustration. "That's ridiculous George. No one would do something like that. And it's not like such an island really exists."

"Actually…" Harry murmured.

Three heads turned expectantly to his. He didn't think he'd said that out loud.

_Oh well, nothing for it now._

"I have to show you guys something. I'll be right back." Harry rose from his seat on the couch and ignored the triumphant grin on George's face. Ron however, did not.

"What do you know?" Ron asked his brother suspiciously as Harry walked into the study.

"You'll see," was the only reply he could hear from the next room.

He wasn't going to ask how George knew. George _always_ knew.

A few minutes later, after shucking all the diversionary files from his desktop, he carried the pamphlet back into the den and dropped it on the low table in the middle of the room. Immediately, his friends gathered around the literature and began reading the highlights of the getaway under their breath.

Harry practically knew the words by heart. Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort was an LGBT-friendly getaway for witches and wizards looking for company of a more…adult nature. The facility set up shop on a different tropical island each week and was scheduled to play host to Fiji in a fortnight. What had caught Harry's eye, besides the pretty faces smiling and waving from their pages, was the fact that he could forgo all the awkwardness of dating. That seemed to be where he was having the most trouble in his social life and he would love the chance to be intimate with someone without worrying about the rules of etiquette or if the person he was with was a stalker. The Resort apparently had measures in place to prevent that sort of thing.

After his friends had flipped through the pages in relative quiet, Harry looked at them anxiously, waiting for the fireworks to go off.

"You aren't seriously thinking about going mate?" Ron asked, a look of pure horror and nausea apparent on his face.

"Why wouldn't he go?" George questioned loudly. "This sounds brilliant!"

"Why wouldn't he go?" Hermione echoed incredulously. "Because it's a…a sex fest. It can't possibly be safe."

"Actually, they have constant security and make everyone sign magically-binding contracts when you get there so you can keep your identity a secret once you leave," Harry corrected.

Ron looked unnerved. "Sounds like you've given this some thought."

Harry shrugged. The idea had initially made him rather wary. What kind of people showed up to a pleasure-seeking island but deviants and perverts, surely? But the more he thought about it, the more he imagined people like himself. Witches and wizards who were having a hard time dating for one reason or another and just needed a chance to blow off some steam with no strings attached.

"It's certainly an idea. They can even set you up on a date of sorts if you see someone you like," Harry said neutrally.

"A bloody fantastic idea, if you ask me," George exclaimed. "Think of it Harry, beautiful surroundings, all the food and drinks you can handle, and fit blokes as far as the eye can see. And because you're The-Boy-Who-Lived-Forever apparently, you'll have the pick of the litter."

"So I'll need a title to attract any attention? Can't get by on my rugged good looks?" Harry asked with a wry smile.

"Course you can. I'm just saying, it can't hurt."

"Are you sure _you_ don't want to go on this trip George?" Hermione asked.

George finally felt the need to blush. "Would love to. Can't afford it right now. Renovations at Wheezes is eating a lot of my capital."

"I would offer to take you with me, but that would just be disturbing," Harry admitted.

"So you're definitely going then?" Ron asked. "I mean, it's kind of bizarre, but if it's something you want to do, I'm behind you."

Harry caught Hermione's stern look from across the room and paled. "Erm…I'm still thinking about it. Haven't come to a firm decision yet."

Hermione's expression cleared. "Yes Harry, please think carefully about it. I just don't want you to get a bad reputation as some sort of sex-fiend."

"I wouldn't Mione. There's a gag clause, remember?" Harry started, rolling his eyes at Ron and George's snickering at the word 'gag.' "I'm going to put some real thought into it. No hasty decisions on this."

"Good," she replied, mollified.

"Merlin, if you do go, I want Pensieve memories of your escapades," George declared.

"George, ew, this is Harry we're talking about here. Our friend?" Ron scolded.

George grinned. "I know who Harry is. I'm just saying, sex is sex, and he's not bad to look at, so why not?"

Harry's face heated remembering George's late-night confession his of bi-sexuality and an ill-advised, but brief snog when he'd needed some comfort. George had stayed home from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes for two days after that incident, before knocking on Harry's door and delivering an awkward apology and a bag of new items from the shop. They'd put it behind them then, and the kiss had now become a running joke, despite the fact they hadn't told anyone else about it.

"Tempting as that sounds," Harry started sarcastically, "I'm going to have to decline."

George tilted his head to the side and shrugged as if to say, 'It was worth a shot.'

"Anyhow," Hermione cut in loudly, "I've been wanting to hear about the renovation project at the store. How's that going George?"

Chuckling at the abrupt change of subject, Harry sunk back down onto the couch and wondered how long it would take for the topic to turn back around to sex.

* * *

_Dear Eden,_

_I'm writing to enquire about your Bodily Pleasures Resort. I've recently received a brochure in the post and am curious as to the security parameters you have in place. I am somewhat of a public figure and would much prefer if the press did not catch wind of a potential visit to your complex. When you have a moment please owl back to ensure that my privacy will remain intact. If I'm satisfied with your procedures, I would love to come for a stay and meet your other male clients._

_Thanking you in advance,_

_Nervous Male_

Harry cringed at his sign off, but was adamant about not releasing his name until Eden, or whoever was really in charge, proved that their resort was secure. The last thing he needed was a reprint of his letter showing up on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ advertising his more than mild interest in his own gender. Shrugging in defeat, he sent the letter off with his owl Tyr and waited for a response.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Nervous,_

_Thank you so much for considering Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort as your destination for safe and satisfying wizard mingling. Please let me assure you that at EBPR, we take our visitors' privacy and security quite seriously. All potential clients are subject to a background check and must be tested for sexually transmitted diseases. Upon passing those requirements, the individuals must then sign a privacy clause, which is magically-binding and will prevent them from sharing information about our clientele to others. This privacy clause also extends to our entire staff, including myself. In addition to those measures, we also have emergency Portkeys located in each living space, which will transport you to our secure main office should you require assistance._

_We hope that these measures will ensure you feel comfortable enough to enjoy yourself at the Resort. If you have additional questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact me directly._

_Looking forward to hearing from you soon,_

_Eden DuCorps_

_Owner and Proprietor_

_Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort_

* * *

_Mr. DuCorps,_

_Thank you very much for getting back to me so quickly. I really only have one thing to say after reading your response: When can I come in for the testing?_

_Yours,_

_Not Quite As Nervous Male_

* * *

Two days later, as Harry stepped through the temporary Floo that would connect his fireplace with the Resort's main office for the next few hours, he was thankful that they were so willing to accommodate their guests. Apparition and Portkeys had never been his preferred methods of travel, but Flooing he could deal with.

He stepped out of an old-world fireplace that looked totally incongruous among the ocean-themed decor of the office. It was borderline gaudy with tiki torches and bamboo seeming to cover every surface, but Harry supposed he had seen worse at the annual Ministry summer barbecues.

"Mr. Nervous? Is that you?" a male voice called from the front door of the office, looking as though he was just coming in from the surf. He removed a pair of mirrored sunglasses from the perch of his nose, before venturing further into the room.

"Uh yeah, it's me," Harry responded lamely. He began walking toward the center of the room, arm extended for a handshake. And then Harry looked up at the man before him and blinked hard. He was…well, he wasn't exactly what Harry was expecting. His mind had determined Eden to be a tall and handsome model type, straight from the covers of _Witch Weekly_ and fighting Lockhart for Most Charming Smile. Like the examples currently frolicking in the sand beyond the windows of the office.

He was not expecting an average-sized, damn-near dumpy sort of fellow with lackluster brown hair and…

Was he balding?

"So good to meet you. I'm Eden."

Harry held his tongue and put his hand out to shake the one proffered to him. "Harry Potter. Thanks for having me," he said, once he'd found his voice again.

"Of course," Eden replied, the man's watery hazel eyes widening with awe as they darted back and forth between Harry's eyes and scar. "I'm sure you're probably our most well-known and powerful visitor. Course, I can't tell you who else is here. Contract and all. But you'll meet them soon enough." He gave a wicked grin that made Harry's nose wrinkle involuntarily.

"I look forward to it. So, where do I start?" Harry glanced out the front window of the office and noted the myriad of bungalows that dotted the pristine sand, wondering where he might stay when this was all said and done.

"With the background check. If you'd be so kind as to follow me."

Harry trailed behind him, deeper into the room that he'd only just noticed was decked out like a cabana. Bamboo ceiling fans circled lazily overhead and tropical flowers, probably charmed for an extended life, dotted almost every surface. A small desk peeked out from underneath all the foliage and Harry sat down in front of it on a stool that looked like it would be better suited at a bar.

"Right, it's in here somewhere," Eden mumbled as he sat across from Harry rummaging through the drawers for something.

Harry took in the rest of the scenery while he waited. Four additional offices branched off from the main one. From where he sat, he could see a dark-haired woman seated behind her own desk, frantically wrangling with a huge colorful bird and wrestling a piece of parchment from its beak.

"We use tropical birds here for our post," Eden said, following Harry's line of sight and he watched the macaw with interest, wondering if and when he would allow the woman to take her message.

"Not quite as efficient as owls, but we feel they're more conducive to the atmosphere. Ah, here it is!" Eden brandished a long scroll of parchment in Harry's direction.

He must have noticed the look of shock on Harry's face at the length of the form and gave a guilty smile. "It's a bit of a chore, I know. But whatever helps keep our visitors safe."

Harry cocked a wry eyebrow causing the other man to flush. "Not that I'm insinuating that you would cause any safety concerns! Never Mr. Potter, but it is standard procedure you see."

Harry held up a hand, cutting off the man's bumbling. "It's not a problem, let me have a look."

Thirty minutes later (because Harry really had no idea if his maternal grandmother had ever been imprisoned - nor knowledge of the related crime) he had completed the questionnaire and tapped it with his wand. The parchment glowed yellow as it reviewed his responses for accuracy and suitability and then flashed green with a large checkmark, deeming him acceptable to attend the Resort. Even though he knew he'd have no problem, a little thrill ran through him at the knowledge that he was approved for something based on his merit and not just because he was The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Now he was seated on a tiny examining table in a room off the back of the main office. A petite Healer with EBPR embroidered onto the pocket of her robes swept into the room, wand already in hand.

"Hello Mr. Potter. I am Healer Sandra Jacques and I'll be performing your medical testing today. This shouldn't take more than ten minutes. Unless of course, there is a problem with the results." She wrinkled her nose as though she already believed Harry would cause trouble and find a way to waste her time.

"Ok, sure."

Healer Jacques waved her wand slowly over Harry's body and he watched with moderate interest as vitals formed from a shimmering mist between them. Much like the parchment had done, the floating clipboard would glow green as she completed each test successfully. Ten minutes later, to the second he might add, Healer Jacques lowered her wand and stated that she was done.

"All clean Mr. Potter," she concluded, producing a sheet of paper from thin air and handing it to him. "Give that to Eden and you're all set."

"Thanks," he said courteously and hopped down from the table.

Returning to Eden's desk, he handed over the medical report with a small smile, barely holding back a chuckle when the man sported a big grin and clapped Harry on the shoulder.

"Excellent!" he praised. "I daresay we can get on with the contract, as long as you are amenable to the cost tier?" Suddenly the owner looked as though lots of people got to this point and then shied away because of their rates. Despite the large bungalow with ocean-view, house elf access, complimentary cocktails, and welcome basket, 695 Galleons was still nothing to sneeze at.

But as far as Harry was concerned, the price was nothing compared to the value of keeping his name and reputation intact.

"It's not a problem at all. I can draft the funds from my Gringotts vault today." Harry valiantly ignored the slightly greedy look that entered Eden's eyes at the statement.

"Wonderful. Then let's get started on the contract," he said happily. Eden pulled an official-looking document out from a file folder and extended it to Harry to peruse.

Like Eden had mentioned before in his letter, the contract was magically binding. Clients were physically prohibited from speaking about other visitors they saw during their stay, unless said visitor were to mention it themselves. Harry reviewed the wording with Hermione-like precision and then signed his name at the bottom with a conjured quill. As he crossed the t's in Potter, he felt the thrum of magic squeeze his torso and then release him.

Seeing the bewildered look on his face, Eden spoke up. "Don't worry. That'll be the binding magic. You're now officially unable to release the identities of anyone you meet here."

Far from worried, Harry was actually quite excited. If everyone underwent this level of security, he would be able to let his guard down for once and really enjoy himself.

* * *

The following week carried on in regular fashion. Harry had paid his desk job in the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement the least amount of attention possible, continuing his practice of hiding unfinished reports in the bottom drawer he'd enlarged, thanks to an Extension Charm. The week had been so boring and uneventful in fact, that Harry had rejoiced in putting in his request for a week off and barely refrained from performing a jazzy little dance in the middle of the corridor. He settled for an extra bounce in his step and a broad grin before returning to his office.

But by the end of the day on Friday, Harry was starting to think that getting through his week had been the easy part. The hard part, it seemed, was packing. What did one bring with them on a trip to paradise where the main goal was to find a fuck buddy?

Harry didn't know, but luckily, he knew exactly who could help him.

"Honestly Harry, where's your Speedo?" George asked after Flooing over at Harry's request.

"Um, at the store I reckon, as I haven't got one," Harry replied, blushing furiously.

George looked at Harry critically. "Mate. I'm only joking. Are you sure this is something you want to do?"

Harry frowned. A serious George was unnerving. "I am. Why do you ask?"

"Because if you get flustered at my teasing, when we've known each other forever, how are you going to respond when a random bloke asks to blow you?"

"That's the thing though George - I think that'll make it easier. The random part I mean." Harry sat down on the edge of his bed, holding a pair of swim trunks in his hand. "There, I know that everyone's looking for sex. There's no hidden agenda, no one trying to sell my secrets to the _Daily Prophet_. Just one common purpose."

George's frown slowly morphed into a genuine smile. "Ok. You know best. Let's get you packed."

The duo proceeded to spend the next forty-five minutes gathering items that Harry would need for his week-long holiday. Though much of that time was spent removing prank items George had placed in his overnight bag, such as novelty whips and chains. He did however, pocket both the Lousen Brand Heated Lube and Monsieur Masseur Massage Oil with reddened cheeks. George threw him a knowing wink.


	2. Once Upon a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day One at Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort.

**Day One**

Despite Harry's whinging at Eden to 'please, please, please' let him come back to the Resort through the temporary Floo connection, his request had been shot down. He was now standing on the sandy beach outside the main entrance of the Resort, getting his bearings and calming his stomach after a rocky Portkey trip.

A large royal blue archway welcomed visitors to Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort, Where Your Body is Our Pleasure. Snickering, Harry walked through the portal and took in the bungalows he'd seen during his first visit, as well as several shanty-like buildings that included a gift shop. He'd have to be sure to pick something up for George before he left.

As he admired the scenery, his stomach clenched and tightened, both from the aftereffects of travel and anticipation of finally starting his holiday. A bout of nerves was sneakily trying to take over his joy at being away from work and prying eyes for a week. Especially with echoes of Hermione's last-ditch efforts to keep him at home ringing through his head.

This really _was_ sort of mental, wasn't it? Even for a reckless and impulsive Gryffindor. Had he been kidding himself thinking this was some sort of role he could just slip into? Perhaps he had, he thought with a sigh.

Just from a preliminary glance around, Harry could see guests strolling along the sandy expanses, gorgeous and fit bodies laughing and mingling in a seemingly effortless manner. How was Harry supposed to fit in with these carefree vacationers?

He looked down at his attire. _Well, maybe a change in clothing would be the first step,_ he thought. He'd dressed for comfort, but was quickly coming to realize that his version of comfortable and everyone else's were leagues apart.

He was wearing a pair of gray loose-fitting track pants with a white sleeveless cotton shirt. Casual right? Beach-appropriate?

Not so much.

The other men he'd seen so far were all wearing some variation of khaki-colored cargo shorts and linen button-down shirts, buttons undone for maximum sex-appeal. He didn't think he'd seen so many tanned and toned chests since he was allowed to attend a practice session for the Appleby Arrows. _And what a day that had been_ , Harry thought, briefly allowing his mind to wander before a voice cut into his fantasy sequence.

"Mr. Potter?" a feminine voice called from behind him. He whirled around and was met with the woman he'd seen in the main office the other day who'd been struggling with the macaw. She, like the other beach-goers, was dressed in skimpy attire, a pink spaghetti-strapped tank top, an obscenely short white tennis skirt and delicate sandals.

"Yes," he replied cautiously. She had a hungry gleam in her eye that made him hope she'd read his file and noted his sexual orientation.

The woman offered a bright smile and extended a hand. "My name is Bridget Mendau. I'm part of the administrative staff here at Eden's. Can I show you to your suite?"

"Yes, thank you." He shook her hand and then followed behind her as she led him to one of the largest bungalows on the western part of the beach.

"It's warded so that only designated staff and yourself can enter. Just tap your wand right there if you will," she encouraged, pointing to a tiny wand-shaped indentation where the door's handle should be.

He touched his length of holly to the groove and felt a tingle of magic run through him. A sound like a deadbolt unlocking met his ears and he pressed his hand against the door to enter the bungalow.

The inside was...wow.

A beautifully appointed suite was laid out in front of him. Plush, overstuffed couches and love-seats in deep sea greens and blues were arranged in a cozy setting around the focal point of the room.

Harry squinted. _Was that…?_

Bridget chuckled from behind him. "Yes, most of our visitors do seem taken with that particular feature of the villas."

Opposite the living room furniture was an open wall. No windows, no sliding doors. Just open air where the wall should be, leading from the sitting room out to a patio. And the view beyond was stunning.

"It – it doesn't look like this from outside," Harry remarked. He dropped his bags down on the wooden floor and stared.

"I know." Harry could just hear the smug quality to Bridget's voice. But he didn't care. He was completely blown away by the crystal clear water, palm trees and foliage that framed his patio and presented a perfect path down to the sand.

"Each bungalow is charmed to have its own private view and section of the beach. Completely individualized, secluded, and warded. No one else can see or hear you while you're out there and you can't see anyone else either. We can look at it now if you want, the walkway is right there," she stated, pointing to corner of the patio that led down to the water.

"No, I think I'll check it out later. I'm actually kind of tired right now," he admitted.

"Of course," she said with an accommodating smile. "Please let us know if there's anything you need. This week's schedule of events is listed at the front door and I do hope you'll join us for the Welcome Dinner tonight."

"I will. Thank you."

Bridget nodded and walked out of the room with a swish. Harry waited until the door locked behind her before spinning in a tight circle and taking in his surroundings. He just might be able to get used to this.

* * *

The Welcome Dinner was bringing back those pesky nerves again. Harry was sat at a luxuriously decorated table in the TreeHouse Restaurant, which was, quite literally, situated in the middle of a massive Banyan tree. Wooden ramps led down and over to other branches for more secluded dining, but Harry of course, was in the middle of one of the largest dining tables. He supposed that was his own fault for taking so long to find something to wear.

He'd finally settled on a powder blue button down (with only the first two buttons undone, thank you) and solid white Bermuda shorts, but his delay had forced him into one of the only available seats left. To his left was an older, nicely dressed gentleman, while his neighbor on the right was a young, snooty-looking woman wearing a fuchsia tube top and shorts that could pass for knickers. But worse than his company was the fact that _everyone_ had noticed him.

 _Thank Merlin no one can talk about this when we leave_ , he thought. More than sixty pairs of hungry eyes assaulted him as though they were about to vie for his attention all at once.

Harry put his head down and fiddled with the silverware. The sound of someone clinking a fork against a glass got his attention a few moments later.

"Good evening everyone, and welcome to Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort," the announcer said. Harry had expected Eden to come up and make the first night's announcements, but he was met with the sight of Bridget instead. Though even Harry had to admit that she made a more pleasing focal point than Eden himself. A round of applause met her words and she smiled while waiting for the cheering to calm down.

"My name is Bridget Mendau and I would like to thank you all so much for joining us not only for dinner, but for the Fiji leg of our summer schedule. Now," she clapped her hands together for emphasis, "tonight will be dinner and mingling, followed by dancing in the Arbor Room behind the bar. All refreshments are free, but we do ask that you do not carry your cocktails around the Resort, just to keep the beaches at their cleanest."

Harry listened with half an ear as Bridget finished up the announcements, as his brain was still stuck on the "dancing" portion of the evening. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been dancing. Was it really as far back as the Yule Ball? No, that's right. He'd reluctantly gone dancing with one of his first dates after coming out to his friends. Gavin had wanted to go to an elegant wizarding jazz club and dance to the vocalist that performed toward the end of the night. Harry's liquor intake had been inadequate that night. Not enough to calm his nerves, but just enough to make him trip over his feet for an entire song.

Needless to say, Gavin hadn't appreciated Harry nearly breaking his toes all night and had given him a quick peck on the cheek at the door, but no second date.

 _But that's ok_ , Harry thought. _That was ages ago. You're older, more confident, and ready to try something new._

Or, he was older at least.

"You will find tomorrow's activities listed on the itinerary in your living quarters which will automatically update from day to day or if there are any changes to the schedule. So with all that said, thank you once again and enjoy your evening." Bridget meandered back to the staff area while Harry was stuck in his seat. The attention of everyone at his table shifted from Bridget back to him and Harry was starting to think maybe this hadn't been a good idea. He shakily reached for the glass of wine that had appeared after Bridget's speech and fought to keep a mortified blush from his face.

"Mr. Potter? You are Harry Potter aren't you?" a woman's voice carried over to him from across the table, three seats down. She was older, perhaps in her forties, with salt and pepper hair and cats-eye glasses. Harry's heart was pounding furiously, but he responded as calmly as possible amidst all the mumbling around him.

"Yes, I am. Please call me Harry." _And do be kind enough not to draw attention to me for the remainder of the evening._

She gave a simpering smile that reminded him uncomfortably of Delores Umbridge and then continued. "Of course. Nell Scotto – pleasure to meet you. I'm just curious _Harry_ , why a powerful and handsome wizard such as yourself would need to come to a place like this. The girls must be falling all over you." The smile turned lecherous and turned Harry's stomach at the same time.

He exhaled sharply, keenly aware that he'd garnered the attention of the entire banquet table by now. He might as well make his announcement tonight and get it out of the way.

"That would be alright I suppose if I were interested in women." He reached out and took a large gulp from his wineglass to fortify himself through the near silence that had come over the table.

Nell looked at him as though he were joking and then realized he wasn't when Harry didn't break the stare.

"Oh," she said quietly.

He pursed his lips and went back to his previous pastime of playing with the table's silverware.

"So you're gay then Harry?" the gentleman to his left asked, not unkindly.

"Yes. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name…"

The man held out his hand. "Right! Cory Schneider. I hope you don't think I'm rude for asking. I just think it'll be hysterical to see the looks on the women's faces when they realize they don't have a chance with you. Though I think you'll make some gents very happy."

Harry bit his lip in uncertainty. "Are you…"

Cory's face broke into an amused grin. "No, I'm not gay. But I can recognize a catch when I see one – witch or wizard."

Harry felt like he could relax after that. The attention had turned away from him for the time being and their dinner arrived, appearing on the table Hogwarts-style.

Over boeuf bourguignon and loaded mashed potatoes, Harry spent most of dinner chatting amiably with Cory about their jobs, social lives, and what had brought them to the Resort. Turned out that Cory worked with a Demiguise facility in Laos helping to protect the creatures and harvesting their hair for invisibility cloak manufacturers. As Harry went deeper into the wine that continually refilled itself, he idly mused that it was a shame Cory was straight. He definitely wouldn't mind spending intimate time with someone so friendly, handsome, and intelligent.

_Oh well, maybe someone else will catch my fancy tonight._

* * *

Or maybe not.

It was dancing time and even though Harry was pleasantly tipsy, he couldn't get the memory of Gavin and his poor trampled toes out of his head.

Therefore, he was holed up at a table in the corner of the room, nursing a mug of ale, as the wine had given him a slight headache. Around him, guests were mingling and dancing with one another and generally having a good time. Harry was scanning the crowd for potentials to bring back to his villa for the night. The alcohol in his system was playing havoc with his libido. He would love to have at least a mutual wank session with someone, if not a full on shag. That _was_ what he was here for, right?

Bringing his mug to his lips, he continued peering through the dancing bodies. There was a petite young woman with chestnut brown hair cut into a pixie-style around her face that was looking at him intently from across the room. And once she saw that Harry was looking back, a predatory grin lit up her face and she stalked her way over to where he sat.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered into his drink.

But it was too late. The lithe slip of a woman walked directly into his line of sight and held out a hand. "Harry Potter, right?"

Harry stared into her brown eyes cautiously and then shook her hand. "Yes." Gods he was tired of answering that question, and it was only his first night there.

The edges of her eyes crinkled with delight. "I'm Phoebe Stoneberry. Do you have a companion tonight Harry?" she asked with no hesitation.

A nervous cough was fighting to get free from Harry's throat, but he forced it back down. "A companion? No. You mean like a date, right?" he fumbled.

"Date, bed-partner," she shrugged, "I want to be it, whatever you want to call it."

Harry's eyes widened at the woman's brazenness and then realized that she must not have been witness to his earlier confession at the dinner table.

"I-I'm gay," he said, shocked into admitting the simple truth.

Phoebe's eyes narrowed as she considered him. Why did every woman think he was lying about his sexuality?

"Really," she said in disbelief.

"Really," he repeated. "I like blokes, and the cocks attached to said blokes."

Her face finally broke its wary stare and her lips turned up into a small smile. "Alright then. I guess I'll have to live with that. Would you like some company anyway? Even though I've embarrassed myself and don't have a cock?"

Harry chuckled. "I suppose I can stomach to be around a female for a while."

"Good," she said, sitting down in the chair opposite Harry. "Since I have to deny you my talents in bed, I'll just have to help you find a suitable partner to make up for it."

Harry's heartbeat quickened. "No, you don't have to do that-"

"I insist." Phoebe placed her hand over Harry's. "It's the least I can do for being so presumptuous. Besides, it'll be fun."

And two hours later, Harry really couldn't deny the fact that he was having fun. After being plied with several drinks, he and Phoebe spent the night dancing with each other, searching for the fit blond bloke Phoebe had glimpsed earlier in the evening, and trying to find someone for Harry to bed.

As much as he was enjoying himself though, Harry begged his leave as he watched the night hours turn to the morning.

"I'm exhausted Phoebe," he yelled over the music. "And I haven't seen that hot guy – I think you made him up."

Phoebe slapped his arm in mock horror. "Did not! I'll find him, you'll see."

Harry nodded wearily, already creeping toward the door. "If you do, send him to my bungalow. But let him know I'm knackered so I'll have to grope him tomorrow."

"You're pissed, go to bed," Phoebe chided with a chuckle and gave him a wave.

"We'll hang out tomorrow?" Harry called over his shoulder.

"Course, see you then."

Harry wasn't sure how he made it back to his villa that night. But maybe if he hadn't been quite so drunk, he'd have seen a blond head duck out of the dance-hall just before he did.


	3. Two 4 One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two: Harry formulates a plot.

**Day Two**

The sounds of the morning rushed Harry's ears in an annoyingly cacophonous manner. He supposed the rainforest-type cawing of birds and streaming water would be a wonderful way to wake up for anyone else. But he was not anyone else. He was hungover and weary.

Gingerly, Harry rolled to his side and dared to crack his eyes open. His vision strained to clear itself, but it took several strong blinks to see the nightstand without his glasses. When he could finally see, he took in the sight of a glass vial propped up on the side table with a note in front. Harry groped under his pillow to summon the package with his wand. He was thankful for years of perpetually stowing it in the same place, even when three sheets to the wind.

When the cool glass bumped against his palm, he read the note.

_Extra-Strength Hangover Potion_

_\- Courtesy of Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort_

"Thank Merlin," Harry murmured, pulling the cork out of the vial and downing the serum in one gulp. He shuddered as the concoction worked its way through his system. It felt slimy, as though an eel were traveling along his innards, leaving a tingling antiseptic sensation in its wake. Once the throbbing in his head subsided, Harry sat up and stretched lazily. The day seemed much more palatable now.

As he was getting up to check the day's itinerary by his front door, a small knock sounded, startling him. He forgot that he was only dressed in his pants and opened the door, surprised to see a house elf bowing low.

"Good morning sir, would you be liking breakfast in bed, or down at the restaurant?"

Harry blinked. He didn't think he'd ever seen a house elf dressed in a Hawaiian-print shirt before.

"Erm, breakfast here would be fine, thanks." Besides, he was on holiday, why not indulge a little?

"Very good sir." The elf proceeded to move past him into the bedroom and snapped its fingers. Harry watched in amusement as the elf moved quickly around the breakfast tray that had appeared out of thin air and loaded the plates with fruits, scones, sausages, and a variety of juices. His stomach grumbled ferociously and he suddenly wished the elf would hurry things along.

"Does you need anything else sir?"

"No, that's wonderful. Thank you." Harry's eyes never left the tray. The elf bowed again and then disappeared with a sharp pop. Grateful and the itinerary forgotten, Harry threw himself back on the bed and tucked into a breakfast that would make Ron jealous.

Though looking back on it later, he wished he'd given more thought to the day's activities. Apparently the first thing on the agenda was a beach party. It wasn't that Harry didn't like the beach. It just made him slightly uncomfortable. All that sand started to make him itchy after a while and he didn't really fancy baking out in the sun all day. But the lure of more delicious food and dipping his feet into cool water proved to be too strong. Before he knew it, he was showered, dressed, and stepping out into the bright sunshine.

Harry took his time heading down to the Sandy Surf Beach Party, allowing the sun's rays to warm his skin. All along the shore, he noticed, visitors to the Resort were enjoying the ever-pleasant weather, lounging in the sand near the water line, or splashing around in the gentle waves. Numerous long picnic tables parallel to the shore were laden with the lunch menu, including more fruit platters, drinks, and snacks. The beginnings of a long line was starting to form in front of them, but Harry kept walking.

He shied away from the thick crowds of people and edged his way onto a fairly unoccupied section of beach instead. Shaking out the thick blue blanket he'd brought, he plopped down onto it and quickly shielded his eyes from the sun. A breeze blew over his form as he settled into his spot, taking in the scenery. Looking across the expanse to the other side of the beach, his eye caught a flash of blond hair that shined like corn silk in the light. His heart started beating a little faster as images from the night before flooded his mind. He recalled stumbling drunkenly after Phoebe looking for the elusive "fit blond" that she'd spotted. They'd never found him in the dance-hall, but Harry thought he'd hit the jackpot now.

The mystery man was lounging in a beach chair, with a right harem of wizards and witches around him, clamoring for his attention. Harry gave a small smile. The wizard was undoubtedly handsome – he could see that much from where he sat. He was dressed in a yellow and white striped camp shirt and white shorts similar to Harry's. Hot as it was, the shirt was buttoned to the top as though he didn't want to expose an inch of his creamy skin to the elements. Harry looked down at his skin hastily. Though he'd worn a shirt as well, a moderate Sunscreen Charm said he wouldn't need to worry about anything other than tanning.

Harry leaned back on his hands and continued watching the blond through half-lidded eyes. He was contemplating how he could approach him and if he could hold the other man's interest when a shadow fell over his blanket. Looking up and immediately squinting, he took in a well-built body and sturdy legs all under a handsome bronzed face.

"Hi again Harry," the man said with a charming smile.

"Hullo Russell." Harry held his breath, praying that he'd remembered the man's name correctly. They'd only met the night before after all.

Judging from the way his smile grew wider, Harry reckoned he was right.

"I didn't know if you would remember talking to me yesterday evening. We were all pretty drunk last night."

During one of Phoebe's trips to the loo the night prior, Russell had approached Harry and they'd had a nice, albeit brief, conversation. He'd been thinking that perhaps he'd misjudged the man's attractiveness in his inebriation, but the tightening in his groin now said that Russell was plenty fit, sober or under the influence.

Harry chuckled ruefully, remembering his massive headache before the salvation of Hangover Potion this morning.

"We were. But it would be rather hard to forget speaking with you." The blush that flooded Harry's cheeks at his words was immediate, but he wouldn't take his statement back. How was he supposed to get laid if he was too frightened to even flirt?

Russell seemed to take that as a good sign and sat down eagerly upon Harry's insistence. The warmth emanating from his body was welcome even though Harry was already beginning to perspire.

"So, did you take anyone back to yours last night?" Russell asked, moving in close.

"I didn't. It's been hard to find someone that's my type." That was the truth. There had been plenty of drool-worthy men at the dance-hall, but none Harry felt totally comfortable falling into bed with.

Russell inched closer. "What about me? Am I not your type?" A slight pout appeared on his lips that was entirely too sexy.

Harry's mouth went dry. These types of situations should not make him panic. He wasn't a sixth-year anymore, debating if and how he would get Ginny Weasley on her own to snog her. He was a grown man and should be able to let someone know if he was attracted to them or not. _Be a Gryffindor for fuck's sake!_ his brain yelled unhelpfully.

"You are definitely my type," Harry admitted.

"But…" Russell turned his honey-colored eyes on Harry in amusement.

Harry felt his face go red. "But, I guess I'm still getting used to the idea of having sex with a stranger. I thought it would be easier than this. Plus, you seem like a nice bloke, I don't want to use you."

Russell gave him a considering glance. "I understand what you mean. And thank you for the compliment. _However_ , this is a sex resort Harry. That's what people are here for. They're looking for company in bed, not their soul mate."

"I…" Harry sighed. "Yeah, I reckon you're right. I'm just…maybe I'm being too logical about this whole thing."

"Exactly! You need to go with your primal instincts. Ignore your brain for a while. You'll have more fun, I can assure you."

Russell's eyes positively glowed, sensing Harry weakening.

"What are you two whispering about?"

Harry's head snapped up again and he saw Phoebe standing at the edge of his blanket, much like Russell had done minutes before, only Phoebe was wearing a grin of pure evil.

He frowned at her as she sat down on his right side, uninvited. "I was trying to make a decision," he muttered, peeking over to catch Russell's expression. Russell looked absolutely murderous, but stayed silent.

"About what?" she asked, scooping up handfuls of sand and letting the grains run through her open fingers.

"Whether he wanted to sleep with me or not." Russell finally joined the conversation and Phoebe's head pivoted slowly, her eyes alighting on his figure as though she was seeing him for the first time.

"Hm," she grunted noncommittally. "My name is Phoebe, and you are?"

"Russell." His voice was steely.

Harry fought the urge to bury his head in the sand.

"Well Russ," she said in a light tone of voice. "Harry here is a true gem. You treat him right if you two decide to get up to anything."

_Oh for fuck's sake…_

"I'm sorry, are you two involved?" Russell asked, confusion creeping in and mixing messily with his resentment.

"No!" Harry cut in. "We're not involved, we're just friends."

"Ok well, Harry maybe you'll come find me later? Alone? I'm in Bungalow 7." Russell's eyes turned hopeful again.

"I thought you already had plans tonight," Phoebe said, a faux puzzled expression crossing her face.

"No! I-I'll think about it," he added for Russell's benefit.

The other man gave a half-hearted wave and walked toward the buffet table.

"You're welcome," Phoebe said once he was gone. She leaned back on her arms and turned her face up to the sky.

" _You're welcome?_ What the bloody fuck was that for?" Harry asked, turning an incensed gaze on Phoebe. "I thought the goal was to get me laid. I can't do that if you go around scaring off any guy I meet."

Phoebe turned her head lazily in Harry's direction so that it was almost resting on her shoulder.

"He's been here before. I heard some people saying that he's just terrible. Likes to completely dominate his partner in bed."

"Maybe I like that sort of thing." Harry immediately blushed after that statement.

"He doesn't let his partners orgasm."

Harry blinked at her. "Oh," he replied at last.

"Yes, oh. And again, you're welcome."

"Thanks," he muttered. He supposed Phoebe, despite her borderline uncouth ways, had saved him a night of disappointment. _Who didn't want to bring their partner to climax?_ he thought.

Phoebe simply smiled and turned back to the heavens.

"So where have you been? Beach party started an hour ago," Harry asked, mimicking her posture. He could see why she did it. It really was quite comfortable.

Harry couldn't see her smirk from his position. "Getting some action."

He turned his head sharply to face her. "Really? With who?"

"Cory. He's still in his room, asleep. Guess I wore him out." She shrugged as if it was no matter, but Harry could see the pleased flush on her face.

Harry guffawed. "Cory? That's great. He seemed like a nice bloke."

"He is. Wicked good in bed too. He did this thing, where-"

"No! No, no, no, I don't want to hear about what you and Cory did in bed, I do _not_ need that visual."

Phoebe shot him a cheeky grin that made them both dissolve into laughter.

Wiping a tear away from his eye, he remembered something. "Oh! I meant to tell you. The blond that we were trying to find last night is here."

"Where?" Phoebe sat straight up, looking all around the beach as though she hadn't just had an amazing shag.

Harry chuckled and pointed. "He's right over – oh bugger. He's gone."

The section of sand where the sexy blond had set up his beach chair was now mainly deserted. Just a couple of people were tossing around an inflatable Muggle beach ball.

"Damn," Phoebe said. "I was looking forward to seeing him up close." Her shoulders sagged with disappointment, but no more than Harry's. It was in that moment that he had an idea. He would just have to wait until tomorrow to enact it.


	4. Three is the Magic Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry reaps the rewards of Day Three at the Resort.

**Day Three**

Bright and early the next morning, Harry trekked over to the main office to speak with Bridget. Eden was nowhere to be found, which Harry was coming to realize was par for the course for him.

His intentions for going to the office were two-fold. To start, the fact that Harry had spent the past two nights alone did not bode well for the rest of his trip. He'd be damned if he spent all those Galleons and didn't get so much as a snog while there. Second, he was intrigued by the mysterious blond man that he could never manage to track down for more than a few minutes at a time. So why not catch two pixies with one net and increase his chances for obtaining both?

"Good morning Harry. I hope you're enjoying your stay so far," Bridget chanced. Her macaw was resting on a wooden post behind her with its head tucked under its wing.

"I am. But I'd like to look into something that might make it even better."

Bridget looked intrigued. He was glad he had her attention.

"There's a man I've been catching glimpses of. A blond. Tall. Gorgeous porcelain skin. If you can find him I'd love to be set up to meet him. If he likes men. Can't tell those things by looking of course." Harry bit his bottom lip to prevent any further babbling.

Recognition dawned in Bridget's eyes. "I think I know exactly who you're talking about Harry and yes, he is gay as well. And might I say, you have bloody good taste," she grinned.

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "So you'll be able to set me up?"

"Absolutely. That's what we're here for. Now, he's very private about giving out his name, so I'll send him a note and let him know you're interested. Is that alright?" She was already pulling out a piece of parchment and quill.

"Yeah, that's fine, just…" Harry bit his lip again, pondering. "Just don't use my name either."

Bridget's face lit up with an odd combination of cunning and amusement. "I wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

Harry had only been back in his suite for about an hour when a striking yellow and white toucan fluttered down to one of the patio chairs with a message tied to his leg. He crossed outside into the sunshine and cautiously untied the parchment. On the standard EBPR letterhead was a note from Bridget.

_Harry,_

_I sent a request for a meeting with your person of interest and he has accepted. If it's amenable to you, he will be waiting outside your bungalow at 7pm tonight. Please send a response to confirm._

_Thank you and enjoy!_

_Bridget_

_Staff-Guest Liaison_

_Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort_

Harry did a gleeful little two-step while the post toucan looked at him in wonder. He grabbed a fresh piece of parchment from the room's desk and penned a short reply.

_Bridget,_

_Thank you, thank you, thank you! 7pm is perfect._

_Harry_

He ventured back over to the tropical bird on his patio and secured his message to its leg again, narrowly dodging a peck from the massive beak. Now all he had to do was wait.

* * *

It turned out that he had a little bit more to do than wait. Phoebe turned up outside his door (why again had he let her know where he was staying?) begging him to come with her to a sex workshop that was being held in a meeting room at the gift store. Against his better judgment, they wound up getting lunch together and then heading over to the demonstration.

Sitting down in a plush chair near the back, he and Phoebe waited with varying degrees of excitement for the class to begin. Harry wondered idly how he'd wound up looking for a bloke yet somehow spending the majority of his holiday with a woman. Figures.

And speaking of blokes, Harry spent a few minutes scanning the room for his pretty blond date. And unfortunately, Phoebe noticed.

"He's not here," she said offhandedly, glancing down at the pamphlet they'd been handed at the door. It was titled _How to Give Incredible Head and Look Like a Sex God_. Or something like that. Harry wasn't sure. He'd taken one look and then blushed furiously while tucking the offending leaflet under his chair.

Leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs at the ankle, he thought about whether he should tell Phoebe about his "date." A selfish part of him wanted to keep it a secret, enjoy the fact that he had finally taken strides to get something he wanted and hope it all worked out. Even after only knowing her for two days, he knew Phoebe was going to want every single detail of not only organizing the date, but what they had planned and if they slept together and _how_ they slept together. He wasn't sure if he wanted to share all that. But there was another part of him that appreciated her camaraderie thus far and felt like it was the friendly thing to do. Besides, if the whole thing went to shit, he could have someone to vent with.

"I know," he responded to her previous statement. He kept his voice as even as he could, trying desperately not to tip her off to his gathering glee. "He's probably getting ready for our date tonight."

Feeling extra cocky, he reached under his chair and nonchalantly pulled out the _Sex God_ pamphlet again. He might as well brush up on his skills. Who knew what would happen tonight?

The incredulous expression on Phoebe's face was well worth telling her the truth. Her head swiveled slowly toward him and cocked to the side like a dog searching out a high-pitched whistle.

"Bollocks."

Harry allowed a small smile to grace his face. "I wouldn't lie to you. He's into men too and he'll be meeting me at my room at 7."

He enjoyed the shock on her face as the truth of his words settled in her brain.

"How the hell did you pull that one off?"

He leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear. "I got a little help from my friend Bridget."

Phoebe's brow furrowed in thought. "Bridget? The bint that works in the main office?"

"Mhm," Harry replied, settling back in his chair. He took a look at the front of the room. It looked like the presenters were getting ready to begin.

"Well congratulations, oh Chosen One." To her credit, she only looked a little put out. Harry supposed there was a part of her that had really hoped she would meet up with the mystery man first.

"Ah, and that's the thing," Harry added with a whisper as the guest speaker approached the front table to begin the session. "He doesn't even know it's me."

* * *

During the workshop, Harry and Phoebe had their own hushed conversation-turned-debate about what he should wear and whether he needed her to help him pick something out.

"I've got it under control. Thanks," he said, ending the discussion and turning his focus back to the presentation.

The presenter, Jahnna, who had been palming a flesh-colored dildo as though it were real, suddenly affixed the apparatus to the wall with a strong Sticking Charm, dropped to her knees and proceeded to service the phallus. She was kneeling in profile, so the entire group could see how her cheeks hollowed out as her head bobbed back and forth. Harry felt his cheeks heat and thought that maybe he wouldn't have found the move so shocking if he hadn't been so engrossed in his conversation with Phoebe.

It was strange, watching someone perform a blowjob. He'd seen it in porn before of course, but never in person like this, unless said person was performing on him. The room had gone quiet, some occupants a bit uncomfortable with the voyeuristic display, while others seemed to be taking diligent notes with their eyes from the way they tracked Jahnna's movements meticulously.

Was that what he looked like when he gave head? On his knees in a sensually vulnerable position, but entirely focused on the task at hand? Throat convulsing with each movement as he struggled to breathe, swallow, and not choke on a thick cock?

Merlin, he was starting to get hard. He should not be getting aroused in front of other people like this, and _definitely_ not from the sight of a woman sucking off a replicated penis.

But he was.

Harry took a deep cleansing breath and placed an inconspicuous hand on his groin. Since he was in the back, he figured he could chance pressing down firmly on the base of his prick to discourage any further hardening. It was working for now.

Jahnna pulled back from the plastic length and spoke in a raspy voice to the class.

"Now something else you may want to consider while you're pleasing your lover is humming. The rumbling that it creates in your throat serves as a warm wet vibrator for your partner. Observe."

Before Harry could mentally tease her for using a word like 'observe' as though she were a university professor, she started moaning.

Harry's eyes widened as she began making sinfully, wonderful, wicked sounds in front of the room and he felt his heart race that much more. His hand was still in his lap and he bit his tongue hard. How was everyone else sitting still through this…this…live sex show? Personally, Harry wanted to run back to the safety of his villa and take care of his growing problem.

He chanced a look around him and from the corner of his eye, he could see the man seated to his right eyeing the hand in Harry's lap distastefully, as though he were going to try to jack off discreetly right here in the back row of a room full of people.

Could he?

 _No!_ an inner voice yelled. Harry shook his head mentally and tried to get a hold of himself.

"Intense right?" Phoebe whispered from his left. He tried not jump at her voice. He'd almost forgotten she was there, what with the free porn in front of him. But Harry felt marginally better about his arousal when he caught the decidedly husky quality of her voice.

"Fucking hell," was all he could get out.

She chuckled quietly, but Harry noticed her wriggling in her seat a bit as if she were having a little trouble too.

Gods, Harry hoped to every spirit that was listening that he could convince his blond date to partake in some similar activities tonight. After this display he was going to need a huge release.

* * *

Harry and Phoebe gamely made it through the rest of the demonstration and he was pleased to see that he wasn't the only male who was walking a little awkwardly. Jahnna mentioned several techniques and clever spells for lovers to use with one another and then encouraged her 'students' to browse the shop for any adult toys they might like to purchase. Staff would be available for any questions about the inventory.

Phoebe walked to the side of the store designated for female pleasure while Harry lingered in the 'Adventurous Male' section. There were standard sex shop wares there, magically-enhanced condoms, warming lubricants like the one he'd pocketed from George, and cock rings.

But there were other items as well. Things Harry had never seen before, things he would never have thought up in a million years. He picked up an item that almost looked like a long thin finger, only with a curved bulbous tip. He squinted at the description next to it and noted that it was a prostate stimulator. It could be used manually or charmed to move on its own in case your partner needed his hands for something else. As he turned the device around in his hand, he wondered what it would feel like to have a toy…up there.

He'd bottomed before of course, but the idea of using a toy on himself or having someone else do it for him just seemed excessive somehow. Self-indulgent. He'd always done just fine with his hand and some lube. But maybe it was time to try something different. Putting the stimulator back on the table, he made a mental note to come back to it and looked at the next section.

He picked up a hollow cylindrical tube made of a rubbery substance. Even Harry wasn't daft enough not to know what this was for. The man was meant to push his erection into the tube and the inside would mimic their partner's canal. And then once in use, he could use magic to make the cylinder tighter or warmer to his liking.

"Is that something you were interested in purchasing Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned his head and saw one of the store's male associates watching him carefully. "I'm not sure yet," he replied. "And please, call me Harry."

The man's face flushed pleasantly at the familiarity. "Certainly, Harry. Now, I can assure you that The Wand Holder is an above-standard product. Or I could give you a demonstration if you were interested."

It was Harry's turn to blush. He managed to cock an eyebrow at the employee. He was positive that the offer was for much more than just a product demonstration if he wanted it to be. But wouldn't it be inappropriate to have a dalliance with one of the Resort's employees? It wasn't like there weren't plenty of other men there for Harry to get on with, his blond date included. That last thought clenched it.

"No - no demonstration necessary. But thank you for the offer," Harry said with a gracious smile.

The man, whose name-tag read _Ivan_ , smiled back. "Anytime. Just let me know if you change your mind Harry." He walked away, leaving Harry to chuckle and put The Wand Holder on the shelf.

He spent some time gazing inquisitively at nipple clamps, silk restraints, and paddles before he realized he was in the BDSM section.

"Didn't think I'd find you over here," Phoebe said with a grin, leaning against the shelf.

Harry grinned back. "You never know. I might be a secret Bondage Master."

There was a pause as Phoebe's eyes grew wide. "Is that a real thing?"

"I don't know!" he cried hysterically.

"You're too fun to mess with," she replied with a laugh.

Harry huffed and changed gears. "What did you get then?" he asked, nodding toward the large carrier bag she held.

"Just some odds and ends," she shrugged, but her face belied the indifference of her expression.

He frowned and poked his finger into the edges of the bag. "That's a lot of odds and ends," he speculated.

She sighed and reluctantly handed the bag over for him to peruse. "Ok, I get a little carried away with sex toys, so…"

His eyes widened as he noted the numerous dildos, vibrators, condoms, and little sexy outfits that she had purchased.

"Wow," he said, handing the bag back to her. "Well you can't say you don't have a healthy sex life."

She let out a short bark of a laugh. "That's putting it mildly."

Phoebe spent some time helping Harry pick up some joke items to give to his friends, though he wasn't sure how appreciative Hermione would be for the lickable body oil he purchased for her. Ron would probably thank him profusely.

After leaving the store, pockets lighter, but hands heavier, Phoebe went to her bungalow to drop off her purchases, but promised to come right over to help him plan for his date.

As Harry was crossing over to his villa, he noticed Russell trying to flag him down.

"Harry! Hey Harry!" he called, waving a hand in Harry's direction.

Harry worried his lower lip and turned Russell's way hesitantly.

"Hi Russell," he said evenly. He may not have loved what Phoebe told him about the other man, but he wouldn't shun him.

"Hey," he repeated, slightly out of breath after jogging to catch up with Harry. "I didn't see you at the Erotic Reading."

Harry fought back a laugh as he tried to determine which would be more awkward to witness, the sex workshop debacle from earlier or someone reading him porn.

Jahnna's blowjob won by a mile.

"Yeah, I was over at the sex workshop." He held up his bag of purchases as proof.

"How was that?" he asked, sitting down on the bench that was situated outside Harry's front door.

Harry gave a small sigh. He really didn't want to stand out here talking to Russell, but he didn't want to invite him inside either.

"It was hard-core," he said honestly. "I wasn't expecting it to be so graphic."

Russell paled as much as his tanned skin would allow. "They weren't having sex in front of people were they?"

Harry shuddered at the thought. "No, but I've got enough eyeful of a woman fellating a dildo to last me a lifetime," he said with a rueful laugh.

Russell's nose wrinkled at the idea. "Glad I skipped that."

Harry shifted awkwardly and moved his bag to his other hand. "Yeah so, I'm going to head inside and-"

"Did you need me to help you with your bag?" Russell asked, standing up quickly.

"Er, no, I'm fine." Honestly, the bag was a little heavy, but he was also a grown man. He didn't need help with his bag like an old witch in Diagon Alley.

"Oh alright. Well did you want to hang out or something? To be perfectly honest, I'm sort of keyed up after that reading." Russell moved closer to his body and gave Harry a smoldering look that probably would have done something for him had he not been so eager about his upcoming date.

"Actually, I'm rather tired. And I do have plans tonight so I want to get some rest beforehand." It technically wasn't a lie. He was pretty tired and he did want to relax. But the crux of the matter was that he just didn't want to lead Russell on.

Russell gave him a sad smile and then backed away. "I understand. I hope you rest well and that he's deserving of you."

Harry's heart hammered in his chest. "Thank you. I hope you have a good night. I'll maybe see you around tomorrow?"

Ok, so he didn't want to sleep with the man, but it probably wouldn't kill them to just be friends.

"I think so." Russell gave a genuine smile, clapped Harry on the shoulder and then began making his way toward his own bungalow.

Letting out a tense breath, Harry tapped his wand to the door and entered the villa with Phoebe hot on his heels.

"Don't you have someone to shag?" Harry asked her teasingly, as she slipped into the entrance right behind him.

"At the moment? No. But I'm working on it." She sidled up to him and followed as he dropped his purchases on the massive bed and plopped down beside them. Phoebe lowered herself into an armchair caddy-corner to the bed and looked at him with appraising eyes.

"Besides," she continued. "My priority right now is to make sure you're dressed appropriately for your sex date."

Harry wished that he could correct her and vehemently state that this was not a sex date. But no matter how you turned it, that's what it was. At least Harry hoped that's what it would be. The need to get laid was wreaking havoc on both his mind and body causing wet dreams and untimely hard-ons. Of course the most recent subject of his fantasies was a certain blond he'd be meeting with, so he supposed that aspect of it was alright.

"Fine," Harry conceded, and proceeded to dump the contents of his overnight bag on the bed so that she could see what he had brought along.

As she sorted through his clothes she asked offhandedly, "So what was Russell here for?"

Harry leaned back against the padded headboard and crossed his feet at the ankle. "You know," he began with a grin, "You're starting to sound dangerously like a jealous girlfriend."

Phoebe cocked her head to the side and looked at him with an expression that clearly said, 'Don't be daft.'

"I'm merely looking out for you," she said, holding up a dress shirt and scrutinizing it before searching for another option. "I don't think you want to be known as 'Harry Potter: Submissive Slave,' even if it is just within the confines of the Resort."

Harry grimaced at the thought. "Yeah, I know. He was pretty much asking if he could come in."

"Which was his way of asking if he could come in you." She never looked up from her task, now sifting through a pile of cargo shorts.

He let out a shocked laugh before he could stop himself. Phoebe's sense of humor would never cease to amaze him, and he'd only met the girl two days ago.

Harry shook his head when he found his composure. "You are just too much Phoebe."

She only shot him a wicked grin. "Enough of this. We need to get you ready for your date."

In the end, they decided on a fitted black t-shirt with military green cargo shorts. He would wrap a thick leather strap around his wrist (for added sex appeal, Phoebe explained) and perform a temporary vision-correction charm for the night. Phoebe said that he should forgo his glasses for the moment because it made his eyes pop more ('And who wouldn't want to just fall into those gorgeous green eyes?' she had asked).

After Phoebe left with mutterings of good luck and musings about who she'd be meeting that night, Harry fell into bed fully clothed, simply sweeping his apparel and new-found treasures to the side before succumbing to sleep.

* * *

By the time he woke up it was 6pm and he hadn't showered or straightened up the villa. Harry wasn't sure if his date would want to come inside, but he didn't want to take any chances with a messy suite.

He jumped immediately into the shower and cleansed thoroughly. If things went the way Harry wanted them to go, the blond would be exploring every crevice of his body tonight and he wanted it to be perfect.

Harry blew out a nervous breath as he toweled off and dressed carefully in the clothes Phoebe had helped him pick out. The leather cuff was a bit much for his sensibilities, but he was willing to give it a shot. Finishing up with a quick dab of cologne, he then turned his attention to tidying up the villa. Harry hadn't realized how much his belongings had sprawled across the bedroom, living room, and bathroom. He went to work with his wand, banishing his clothes to the wardrobe and flicking his extraneous items into his duffle bag.

When he crossed into the bathroom to sweep his soggy towels from the floor, he felt a shift in the bungalow's wards followed by a sharp knock on the front door. Shit.

"Coming!" he yelled.

Harry didn't pause to watch as the towels wrung themselves out and then hung up neatly on the back of the door. Instead, he raced to the sitting room, giving his surroundings a once-over. Everything seemed to be neat and in place, except-

Turning on his heel, he darted back to the bedroom and rifled through his overnight bag. He placed the lubricant, charmed condoms, and prostate stimulator into one of the bedside drawers for easy access. He didn't want to be presumptuous, but…better safe than sorry he figured.

When he got to the front door and flung it open, his apologies for taking so long died on his lips. No one was standing on the front step. Befuddled, he turned his head to the left and then noted the pale blond man he'd been admiring for what felt like ages sitting on the carved bench outside of his villa. His head was tilted toward the floor, highlighting an elegant neck. Harry stood stock still for a moment as he noticed his - er - 'dates' slender and long fingers. They were twined in the man's lap resting comfortably as he waited.

Just being in this close of a proximity to his wet dream of the past few nights was making Harry's cock swell.

"Hullo," he said softly, cursing himself that he sounded so timid. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as the head snapped up and he was met with familiar gray eyes.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

His first thought was that Bridget had messaged the wrong person.

His second thought was, 'Why Malfoy?' Because despite the anxiety that was currently coiling in his stomach, the man he'd been fantasizing about was unequivocally Malfoy. Gods, the man just had to foil him at every turn didn't he? Harry couldn't even enjoy himself at a somewhat dodgy sex resort without the bloody Slytherin Prince showing up and throwing everything out of sorts.

During his internal rant, Malfoy had spoken. Harry knew he had, but he'd been too busy hyperventilating to listen. And it was something cheeky, he just knew it, because that smirk was there. There had been a brief moment of shock in those beautiful eyes, and yes, they were beautiful, even Harry wasn't daft enough to deny that, and then his lips had moved and curled gracefully into a smirk.

Harry decided to clear his throat to buy some more time, but it was no good. Malfoy was still looking at him with an amusement that both rankled and aroused all in one go.

"Sorry, what was that?" he rasped out after what felt like ages.

A curious eyebrow lifted. "I said, 'So you're my admirer. Oh how the mighty have fallen.'"

Harry didn't drop his head in embarrassment. For that he was proud. But he was pretty sure the flaming he felt along his neck and face conveyed much of the same message. Trust Malfoy to cotton on to his insecurity about being somewhere like this and throw it in his face during the first thirty seconds of their conversation.

"Yeah well, I didn't bloody know it was you, did I?"

"I think you did know it was me Potter. Let's be honest, they're aren't exactly a lot of people that look like me running around this resort. Were you too frightened to approach me and that's why you had to set up a secret date? Afraid I was going to shoot you down?"

"Piss off Malfoy," Harry said evenly, his old venom rising to the surface easily.

"Really? Watersports? Didn't know you were that kinky."

Harry definitely dropped his head that time, but only because he'd accidentally clicked on something quite similar to what Malfoy was implying when he was on a Muggle porn site a few months back. He had been glad that he wasn't using a Wizarding computer at the time, which would have commented on both the content of the webpage and Harry's accompanying blush.

"Come sit down Potter, you're making me nervous hovering like that."

"How did you get through the background check?" Harry asked instead. Surely, Eden wouldn't overlook the fact that Malfoy and his family had been Death Eaters? "Torturing Muggles can't possibly look good on paper."

Malfoy's face, which had previously held cheeky amusement, now turned hard and icy.

"Still the same self-righteous Potter I see," he replied after a moment's silence.

Harry huffed and folded his arms. "And you're still the same deceitful Malfoy. Seriously, how come I didn't know you were here?"

He watched in fascination as Malfoy's cheeks took on a pink hue. "I've been using a Glamour," he admitted quietly.

Harry opened his mouth to say something scathing and mocking, but Malfoy cut him off. "Not a strong one. Just rounding the chin here, shortening the nose there. Just enough that people won't recognize me right off the bat and reject me based on what I represent. I figured I would go without it tonight since someone was kind enough to request me personally."

Harry looked at him in silence. He hadn't expected Malfoy to be so forthcoming with his explanation.

"So, on that note, I guess I should be going," Malfoy continued, standing up and moving toward the porch stairs.

"No wait," Harry said, holding out a hand. "You're here now, we might as well hang out."

He watched as Malfoy turned toward him. His eyes were crinkled with confusion. "You can't be serious. You really want to spend time together. You and me."

Harry ignored the tiny voice in his head that was asking much of the same thing and carried on. The images from his dreams were gathering in the front of his mind and clouding his judgment.

"Yeah, I do. I mean, they say everything happens for a reason. Us meeting like this can't be a coincidence."

"I imagine it's nothing more than the universe's way of punishing me for past sins," Draco muttered dryly, shocking a laugh out of Harry.

"Come on, it won't be that bad. We'll get some dinner or something. I promise to keep my Gryffindorish tendencies to a minimum." Harry was unsure why he was pressing the situation this hard. It wasn't like he didn't have other prospects on the island. Why force Malfoy into having dinner with him when he clearly didn't want to?

But as Harry watched several different emotions play across Malfoy's face, he found himself hoping desperately that his no longer unnamed blond would say yes.

Finally, Malfoy opened his mouth and said, "If I hear anyone call you the Chosen One tonight I'm leaving, no questions asked."

An unexpected relief filled Harry's stomach. "Fair enough," he said with a small grin. _I'll just have to make sure Phoebe stays far away from us tonight…_

* * *

As they walked to Brio, one of the Resort's restaurants, Harry took in Malfoy's attire. The man looked…well absolutely fuckable for lack of a better description.

He was wearing thin white linen trousers and a pale green button down shirt. The buttons were undone, but much to Harry's surprising disappointment, he was not bare-chested underneath. There was a modest singlet seen beneath the light fabric. Malfoy looked comfortable…sexy…human.

"Are you staring at my arse Potter?" Malfoy asked without turning around. Somehow Harry had wound up walking a bit behind the Slytherin and supposed he was leering.

"Hardly Malfoy. Just enjoying the beautiful surroundings." Harry vowed to pay attention and stop thinking about what Malfoy would look like without the undershirt on.

Once they were seated at their table in the restaurant and had ordered (lamb and champagne for Harry, some poncey fish entrée and red wine for Malfoy) they sat in relative silence. Harry felt incredibly awkward. He had never had a proper conversation with Malfoy before. What were you supposed to say to someone you'd spent the better part of your teenage years hating and then had drooled over for the past three days?

"So what have you been doing since school?" Harry asked once he could no longer take the quiet.

_Clever Harry, really bloody clever._

Malfoy fiddled with the edge of a napkin, not looking Harry in the eye. "A little of this, a little of that."

"Does that translate to you doing something illegal that you rather wouldn't mention?" Harry asked with a sharp glare.

"No, you prick." Malfoy stared back with malevolence. "It means this is bloody weird and I don't know what the fuck I should talk to you about."

Harry relaxed and allowed a small smile to cross his face. He found it oddly comforting that Malfoy was just as freaked out as he was. "It is pretty bizarre. But I guess we should just try talking to one another the way we talk to our friends."

"Ok then Potter, have you done any shopping since you've been here?"

Harry laughed loudly and then stopped with wide eyes when Malfoy shot him a death glare.

"That's what I talk to Pansy about. Thank you for making me feel like an idiot." Malfoy said, a deep flush coming over his skin.

"I'm sorry," Harry said grinning, placing a hand on Malfoy's in supplication. The skin was smooth and warm under his own and he ignored it. "It just caught me off guard."

"Yes well…" Malfoy muttered, dropping his head, but not taking his hand away from Harry's.

"I bought some…er…adult items at the shop today," Harry said, in answer to Malfoy's question.

"Oh, you went to that sex workshop?" Malfoy perked up considerably, but finally moved his hand back, making Harry frown a little.

"I did, and I've seen things that I'd rather not relive if you don't mind." Harry shuddered for effect and Malfoy gave a small snort of laughter. He looked rather nice when he wasn't scowling, Harry decided.

"By all means, keep your horror stories to yourself. I had enough of an ordeal at the 'erotic reading.'" He used air quotes on the last two words.

Harry let out a hearty laugh at that. "So you were there with Russell then." He'd said it before really thinking about it.

Malfoy looked at Harry consideringly and then spoke. "Yes, he was there. Are you friends with him?"

"I don't know what we are," Harry said with a sigh.

Malfoy frowned and Harry hastened to clarify. " I mean, he keeps coming on to me, but I've heard things about him…"

"Like how he makes his lovers dress in women's clothing and model for him while he jacks off?"

Harry's mouth opened wide and stayed that way.

Malfoy gave a smirk at Harry's reaction. "Yes, he's quite the character, that one."

"I had only heard about him denying orgasm. I had no idea about the cross-dressing…Merlin." Harry ran a hand through his hair as another thought crossed his mind.

"Hang on, you don't know about that because you've – I mean, you haven't," Harry trailed off, not entirely sure how to put it.

"I don't know it from experience Potter. I just have it on good authority," Malfoy clarified.

And Harry didn't know why, but that made him feel better.

* * *

Dinner, oddly enough, was going very well. Though Harry supposed the numerous glasses of wine and champagne they'd consumed hadn't hurt matters any.

"I can't believe you let her think you were straight Potter," Malfoy said, bringing his glass to his lips and sipping heartily.

"I thought she knew!" Harry repeated for the third time with indignant laughter. Merlin, it wasn't his fault that Phoebe was so bloody persistent.

Malfoy looked at him with a grin that was anything but innocent. "I think you like being a tease."

Harry gave him a shocked look and opened his mouth.

"No, think about it," Malfoy continued. "Look at what happened with Russell. You left things open-ended instead of being upfront with him and then wound up with the lump sitting on your doorstep."

"No," Harry echoed. "That was just him being bloody thick."

Malfoy chuckled and placed his glass back down on the table. "All right. I'll concede that point. Have we talked about what brought us here yet?"

Harry thought back to the beginning of the evening. Things were starting to get a shade hazy, but he was still fairly certain they hadn't discussed that. "Don't think so."

"Well?" Malfoy ran the index finger of his right hand along the rim of his now empty glass and looked at Harry expectantly. Harry found himself strangely transfixed by the sight.

"To put it bluntly, I haven't had sex in a really long time." Harry wasn't buzzed enough not to blush at his admission.

Malfoy looked at him quizzically. "How long is 'a really long time'?"

Harry paused as he thought about his response. Did he really want to tell Malfoy of all people just how long it had been since he'd been intimate with someone?

Not particularly. But they were having a (gasp) nice dinner and Malfoy was friendlier than Harry had ever seen him. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Clearing his throat, he opted to be brave. "Two years."

Malfoy blinked at him, but didn't say anything. It wasn't a great reaction, but it was better than the laughing and pointing that Harry had expected.

"Oh," he said finally in a soft voice.

"Yeah," Harry replied, suddenly feeling awkward again. He brought his champagne flute up to his lips and downed the rest of the contents. Merlin, this had been a terrible idea.

"That's not really that bad. I mean, people have gone longer."

Harry looked up in surprise, but Malfoy still wasn't meeting his eyes. He continued looking at the lowered gray eyes with consideration. "I suppose," he conceded. "So what about you? Why are you here?"

Malfoy blew out a breath and finally met Harry's gaze. He looked embarrassed. "It's been a while for me too," he admitted. "Not as long as you. But still much longer than I'd like. And this is actually my second time attending."

Surprise flooded Harry's face. "Really? You like it here that much?"

Malfoy wrinkled his nose. "I wouldn't say all that. But the first time I came it was a bit of a disaster and…Merlin, why am I telling you this?"

"Because we're a bit drunk and at a sex-resort and haven't been laid in forever," Harry responded dryly.

Malfoy brought a hand up to his mouth, but couldn't hide his grin. "Right. Well, I probably hadn't waited as long as I should have after the war before coming here. I was hoping that the guests would be too preoccupied with having sex to be really discerning about who they had it with. I got a couple of offers, but most people avoided me like the plague."

"Hence the Glamours now," Harry said, cottoning on.

"Precisely."

It was strange when Harry thought about it. When it came down to the nuts and bolts of it, he and Malfoy were at the Resort for the same reasons. Going through a sexual dry spell. Having a hard time dating because of their names and what they represent. It made Harry almost feel camaraderie with the blond. Of course, that was probably the champagne talking.

"What are you going to do now?" Harry asked as the waiter discreetly removed their plates from the table. He was about to pull out his wallet before he remembered that all their meals were complimentary. Though Malfoy left a sizable tip without a moment's hesitation.

"I don't know. Use the rest of my time here hoping that the Glamours hold up and that I can actually shag someone before I retire," he said with a wry grin.

Harry chuckled. "No, I mean, what are you going to do now, tonight?"

Malfoy blinked rapidly and Harry found himself drawn to the sight of those pretty blond lashes fluttering. "Go back to my suite I suppose. It's not like anything's going to happen with us."

Something in Malfoy's voice said that he didn't quite believe his own words.

"Ok well, at least let me walk you back to your villa. That's what friends do, right?" Harry chanced.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Are we friends now Potter?"

"You said yourself, we're not lovers. But I think we're far from enemies now, Draco." The man's first name sounded foreign to his own ears, but his tongue liked the way the two syllables rolled around on it.

Draco, as Harry supposed he would be known now, blushed at the address. "I suppose it wouldn't kill me to have a friend on the good side this time around."

Harry gave a broad grin as he stood up from the table and held his hand out for Draco to take. Draco, in turn, rolled his eyes at the gesture and stood up on his own. "I'm not a girl Potter, I'm perfectly capable of standing by myself."

"My apologies for thinking you might need a little help after the amount of wine you've drank." Harry smirked as Draco flushed at being caught out.

Draco merely pursed his lips and walked closely beside Harry as they exited the building and walked toward the bungalows. The sun had set while they were inside and Harry tilted his head up to look at the twinkling stars. A swirl of gray was streaked through the sky and he couldn't help but be reminded of the matching gray eyes that watched him cautiously throughout dinner.

This whole thing with Draco was unnerving. And yet…exciting. Harry would never have imagined having a civil, let alone, pleasant, meal with the blond. But here they were. Teasing, laughing, even flirting for Merlin's sake. It made Harry feel alive in a way that he hadn't in a long time. And it made him yearn. Badly.

"You'll get a crick in your neck looking up like that," Draco admonished.

Harry grinned and turned to face Draco. The blond was watching him again. This time with a mixture of appraisal and interest. It lit Harry's arousal on fire.

"I can't help it, it's beautiful," he confessed, eyes never wavering from Draco's.

Draco swallowed nervously at the intensity of his stare and Harry followed the motion of Draco's throat, inexplicably wishing the blond was swallowing something else.

They looked at each other for a few more agonizing seconds before turning away and continuing their walk to the villas. Draco's abode was, like Harry's, one of the larger houses on the beach, but on the opposite side. Which made Harry think…

"What's the view like from your patio?" he asked out of the blue upon reaching Draco's doorstep.

Draco turned to him with a puzzled expression before comprehension dawned and he responded. "Well, you know how they're all customized. I've got an actual backyard. Grass, hammock, flowers, the whole thing. I didn't think I would like it, but it's actually quite nice for when you get tired of sand."

Harry looked at Draco's pale face in the moonlight. He looked ethereal. "Sounds nice," he stated quietly, subtly moving closer to Draco's form.

"Did-" Draco started and then bit his lip in an uncommon show of nerves.

"Did what?" Harry asked, still easing forward.

Draco shook his head briskly. "Nothing. Nevermind."

Harry's nerves were jangling throughout his body. His brain may have been fuzzy, but the rest of his body knew he wanted Draco. Wanted him in the absolute worst way. But he didn't know what to do to get him. Would Draco punch him out cold if he tried to kiss him? Hex him if he asked to come inside?

"Draco," he said quietly, having no idea what to add after that.

Until Draco looked up at him with those beautiful pewter eyes. He looked unfathomably vulnerable and lost and Harry wanted to wrap him up in his arms and never let go.

Harry took the final step into Draco's personal space and took hold of his hands. They were just as soft and warm as they'd been at the dinner table. Although Harry didn't know why he thought they'd feel any different now. He could see Draco's chest rising and falling rapidly and Harry desperately wanted to place a hand on it, feel if the other man's heart was beating as thunderously as his own.

"I don't know about you, but I had a surprisingly good time," Harry whispered.

Draco smiled, a true smile, and Harry was blown away by it at this proximity. "I did too. We must be exceedingly drunk Harry."

Harry tried not to preen at hearing his given name fall from Draco's lips, but it was hard. "I don't think so. I think we're just attracted to each other."

"Even without the Glamour?" Draco whispered, and boldly brought his lips millimeters from Harry's.

"Especially without it," Harry stated.

And then they were kissing.

If Harry hadn't been so lost in pleasure he would've feared that he was suffering a heart attack. Draco's lips were like liquid fire on his own and his veins thrummed with magic and energy and heat.

He felt himself press Draco against the front door and slipped his hands from the blond's, placing them possessively on his hips. The kiss grew in intensity and Harry fought back a moan. Draco's hands were wandering across his chest making Harry's legs tremble. His hard-on was begging for attention, but Harry knew he had to slow down. He didn't want to scare Draco away. He pulled back suddenly struggling for air.

"Gods," he muttered and leaned his forehead on Draco's shoulder.

Draco gave a shaky laugh and stilled his hands on Harry's chest, but didn't remove them. Harry counted that as a victory.

"Do you do that with all your friends?" Draco asked. Harry cursed the fact that he seemed more composed than Harry himself did.

"Only the really special ones," Harry joked, finally lifting his head and stepping back from Draco's warmth.

The blond looked thoroughly frazzled, hair mussed in the back from being pressed against the door. His lips and cheeks were a matching red that Harry could easily get used to seeing.

"Hm, good to know what you think of me," Draco said.

"So what do we do now?" Harry asked. _Ask me to come inside…for the love of all that is good._

Harry had a burgeoning erection that was going to prove difficult to walk with all the way back to his bungalow.

Draco licked his lips and swallowed hard. "We say goodnight and you come out dancing with me tomorrow."

Harry was so excited about the prospect of seeing Draco again, that his brain didn't even register the fact that he'd have to put up with more dancing. "And what about this?" Harry asked, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Draco's mouth.

He could literally see Draco's eyes dilate. "There's more where that came from. If you're lucky." With that, he turned, touched his wand to the door and slipped inside.

Harry was left standing on the front step with an enormous grin on his face. He was feeling lucky.


	5. Four-Gone Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Games, grinding, and groping = Day Four

**Day Four**

Harry woke up the following morning to an obnoxious pounding on his front door. For a moment, he forgot where he was and was going to yell out for Ron to leave him alone and let him sleep. And then he remembered the Resort. And the night before. And Draco…

"Harry Potter, unless you have that gorgeous blond in your bed, you'd better open up this door right now!"

Fuck if Phoebe's voice didn't sound extraordinarily grating at 9am.

"Yeah yeah," he muttered as he dragged himself into a sitting position and feebly flicked his wand at the door to open it.

Phoebe's hand was left hanging in midair as the door opened right when she was going to knock again. "Finally! You have to tell me all about it!"

She practically pranced into the room and flopped on Harry's bed as though they'd been friends forever.

Feeling mischievous, Harry said, "You know, you should really consider if someone's had sex on a bed before you sit your arse on it."

Phoebe looked torn between intrigue and disgust, and then settled on disbelief. "If you'd had sex you would've told me to bugger off and not opened the door. So what happened last night? Was he amazing?"

Harry couldn't help the sleepy grin that crossed his face. He closed his eyes and leaned back lazily on his pillows. "He was amazing."

He spent some time regaling Phoebe with the details of his date from the night before, starting with the fact that he and Draco had been school enemies and ending with the heated snog at Draco's doorstep.

"Enemies to lovers in one night. That's pretty impressive."

"Mm," Harry chimed in, still replaying the previous night's events behind his closed eyes.

"Do you think you'll shag tonight?" she asked. He could feel her gaze on the side of his face. Opening his eyes slowly, he thought about it. He knew that Draco had told him there was more where that came from, but would he really feel the same way in the light of day? People did strange things when they were drunk, randy, and lonely. What if Draco had changed his mind and considered the night before a mistake?

Harry bit his lip anxiously. "I hope so."

Phoebe caught the worried expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking that there's a possibility he's changed his mind. I mean, we both admitted that it's been a long time. Maybe we were so starved for affection that we made poor decisions."

Phoebe was shaking her head before he'd even finished his statement. "I doubt it. You said that you had fun with him even before you got to his room. There's something there Harry. And maybe the sexual tension is just a part of it."

Something more? With Draco? Harry didn't know if he could process the concept right now.

"Well, I'll find out tonight, won't I?" Harry asked, neatly skirting the issue.

"You will. Now what are we going to do today?" She bounced in place a little, sending ripples of movement over to Harry's side of the bed.

"Hang on, you didn't tell me about your night," he exclaimed. He'd be damned if he would be the only one sharing intimate stories on this trip.

She blushed and ducked her head. "I had a good night," she said quietly.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You were with Cory again, weren't you?"

Her embarrassment turned defensive. "If I was?" she said, lifting her head indignantly.

Harry's face softened and he placed a hand on her arm. "That would be brilliant. Do you like him? More than sexually I mean."

"It's very early," she whispered. "But I do enjoy spending time with him."

"Then that's nothing to be ashamed of. If you like him, go after him," Harry encouraged.

Phoebe sighed gustily, making strands of hair fly every which way. "This is Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort, Harry. Not Eden's Find Yourself a Life Partner Resort. I don't think Cory came here looking for a girlfriend."

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes you find things you didn't even know you were looking for."

A wry look came over her face. "Since when did you become a philosophical guru?"

"Maybe I've always been one and you're just finding out."

"Rubbish," Phoebe said, but the look on her face was playful.

"And now that I've imparted my wisdom, sod off so that I can get some more sleep."

Chuckling, Phoebe moved from the bed and made her way to the door. Harry was already snuggled back under the blankets with his eyes closed by the time he heard the front door open.

"Harry?" Phoebe called softly.

"Hm?" He cracked one eye open and saw her blurry form in the entranceway.

"Thanks."

He let his eye fall back shut and grinned. "Welcome."

* * *

Day four at the Resort apparently was Game Day. All along the beach and inside the recreation center were organized games, Wizarding and Muggle alike. On his way to the center Harry noticed people tossing Frisbees, playing beach volleyball, and a massive game of Twister.

Shaking his head in amusement, he continued on until he reached the building, where he hoped several air conditioning charms were in place. He grimaced as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

Inside were more magical games, wizard chess, Exploding Snap, and low-rise touch Quidditch. What really caught Harry's attention though was a large section in the back room where perhaps twenty-five witches and wizards were gathered on floor cushions and chatting quietly about something Harry couldn't see.

As he drew closer, the next thing that caught his attention was a head full of bright blond hair.

"Draco," he called out and watched with pleasure as the gray eyes snapped to his face and a small smile flickered to life.

"Potter," he replied, with none of the heat of their schooldays.

Harry dared to move closer and scooted close to Draco where he was perched on a currant-colored cushion. "What are you guys doing?"

Draco frowned and looked back down at the floor, where Harry now saw several decks of Muggle playing cards.

"Trying to figure out how to play strip poker."

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at Draco in astonishment. "Really? You're playing a Muggle game?"

" _Trying_ to play. Honestly, open your ears Potter." Draco looked at him with a smirk that Harry found to be entirely too sexy.

He leaned in close to Draco's side and whispered. "Oh, so it's back to Potter now, is it?"

A light flush came over Draco's face, but he didn't respond otherwise. "Are you going to help us play, or not?"

It was Harry's turn to look sheepish. "I actually never learned how to play poker. The Dursleys didn't think it was a proper game to play, and by the time I got older I had other things on my mind."

Draco didn't have to ask what those other things were. Instead he sighed dramatically. "So what are we going to play then?"

"There's loads of games going on out there," Harry said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the room at large.

"That's boring. We want to play a more…adult game," a man across from Harry chimed in, clearly listening to their conversation.

Harry laughed. "What? Like Spin the Bottle?"

Most of the people in his vicinity looked at him with furrowed brows, with the exception of some Muggle-borns near the rear of the group. An older witch caught his eye at the mention of the game and swiftly blushed and looked away.

"What's Spin the Bottle?" Draco asked gamely.

"Well, everyone sits in a circle and they put an empty bottle in the middle. One person spins it, and whoever it points to, that person has to kiss."

There were some vague mutters of interest throughout the knot of guests, but Harry turned to Draco as a new thought came to him. "I have a better idea. How about we play Suck and Blow?" he whispered.

Draco's eyes lit up with interest. "I like the sound of that already. How do you play?"

Harry proceeded to tell Draco and the rest of the interested group how the game worked, with a chain of people passing a playing card along the line of participants only using their mouths.

"That's not as exciting as I thought it would be," Draco pouted and Harry laughed at the put out expression on his face.

"I'll tell you what," Harry started, getting into Draco's space to murmur in his ear. He could feel Draco shiver beneath his lips. "If you play this now, we can play a more…literal version later."

Harry watched in fascination as Draco's eyes darkened with undisguised lust. He licked his lips and nodded shortly. "Alright."

Harry crowed with delight internally. He was so glad that Draco still seemed interested in pursuing something sexual with him. He hadn't shied away from Harry's proximity, nor his teasing and advances. He was two steps away from doing a victory dance.

"Ok, here we go."

* * *

As the man on the other side of Draco turned to pass the playing card to him, Harry's stomach knotted up a little. Sure, they weren't really kissing, but it was close enough to make Harry jealous. Draco's head tilted to the side as he placed his mouth over the other man's, with just the thin slip of cardstock between them and sucked sharply to suction the card to his own lips. With a naughty look in his eyes, he turned to face Harry and Harry's knot of tension eased. Draco leaned into Harry's body, much more than he had with the other man, and gently placed his hands on Harry's chest to brace himself.

Harry's heartbeat found a quicker rhythm as Draco brought the card to Harry's mouth and blew gently. He could feel his lids getting heavy and shakily, he sucked the card from the blond, completing the chain and leaving him begging for more physical contact.

Still, he moved away quickly, because he knew the longer he spent with his lips so close to the blond's the sooner he would shove him against the wall and do things that were impolite for company to see.

"So that's how you play," Harry stated lamely, idly wondering how he became the Muggle games ringleader.

Draco gave him another patented smirk and leaned against the wall, folding his arms. "What do you want to do now?"

Harry vanished the cards with a flick of his wand and looked at the floor. "I don't know. Not quite sure how I feel about playing all these games. Seems a bit silly for adults really."

"You mean you don't want to 'connect with your inner child and relive youthful memories'?" Draco quoted from that day's itinerary.

Laughing, Harry brought his head up and looked into Draco's dancing gray eyes. "Not particularly."

"That's why we were trying to spice things up a little. Do you know any other dirty games?"

Harry thought hard and cursed the fact that he didn't have the normal upbringing that so many of his friends had. After some thought, he remembered a game that the older Weasley sons used to play.

"Not dirty per se. But I suppose it could be. It's a drinking game."

Draco raised a pale eyebrow. "I'm listening."

Harry hesitated and hoped he remembered exactly how to play. "It's called 'I Never.' One person says something they've never done and anyone in the group that has done that particular thing has to drink."

A few moments passed while Draco appeared to absorb that information. "You can say whatever you want, as long as it's something you've never done?"

Harry nodded in affirmation.

Draco chewed his lower lip for a moment, capturing the attention of Harry's libido and then grinned. "I'll round up people that want to play, you round up some liquor."

A part of Harry felt disappointed. Was it bad that he sort of wanted to play the game with Draco alone? Preferably in a dark room? With no clothes?

Harry gave a half-hearted smile and then walked to the front of the building. And then the request dawned on him. Where on earth was he supposed to find alcohol?

* * *

A trip to the main office solved Harry's problem. Bridget wasn't there, but surprisingly, Eden was.

"My favorite vacationer! How are you Harry?" he greeted as Harry stepped into the room and plopped down on the stool in front of Eden's desk.

"Brilliant," Harry replied honestly. Despite having to share Draco for the next few hours, he really was having a spectacular time. "I have a bit of a request for you though."

"Anything. What were you looking to get into?" His eyes sparkled as though he knew exactly what Harry was going to ask.

"Um, myself and some of the other guests have decided to play a drinking game, but there's no liquor in the recreation center. Could we get a couple of bottles? Maybe Firewhisky and tequila?"

A positively wicked grin came over Eden's face. "What game are you playing?" he asked with intrigue.

"I Never," Harry muttered, suddenly feeling like a naughty fifth-year.

Eden gave a hearty booming laugh. "Excellent choice! I'll have everything you need by the time you get back to the game room."

Harry broke out into a broad smile. "Thanks a lot Eden! I really appreciate it!"

Eden waved him off. "Don't worry about it. Anything to give my guests a little more enjoyment. Now go on, have fun."

"Thanks!" Harry jogged as best he could on the sand and made it back to the game facility in record time. When he got there house elves were just popping out of sight after depositing bottles of liquor on tables in the back room. Several guests looked up at him as though he was their hero, which gave Harry the kind of déjà vu he didn't even want to think about.

"The Savior returns!" Draco said, already setting about filling up glasses with his wand and sending them to all the participants.

Harry chuckled and crossed the room, dropping into a seat across from Draco. Much to his chagrin there were already people sitting on both sides of the blond.

"That was easier than I thought," Harry said with a sheepish grin.

"Well who could deny Harry Potter?" a voice chirped from down the table. Harry's eyes darted up, but he did not recognize the woman who had spoken. For a brief second, he thought it had been Phoebe, whom Harry hadn't seen since early that morning.

"Anyone could really," Harry said with a shrug, but kept his eyes on Draco. The blond flushed for a moment and then took a sip of his drink in an attempt to mask his discomfort.

"Can we play now?' Draco asked after swallowing. He had apparently explained the rules to everyone while Harry was gone and they all looked to him with eager and excited eyes.

"I suppose so," Harry said.

The game started off nauseatingly tame, with comments like, 'I've never been to a Muggle theatre,' and 'I've never skipped work,' drawing groans and rolling of eyes.

Until it was Draco's turn. The dangerous glint in his eye should have been sufficient warning, but most of their group seemed to miss it. Harry didn't.

"I've never given a blowjob on a patio," Draco stated and calmly watched as faces reddened all around.

Well. Harry drank.

And apparently, that one comment was all it took for the floodgates to open and people to divulge sexual deviancies that they'd never partaken in. Russell's note that he'd never had sex in a bed shouldn't have been surprising.

When the game worked its way around to Harry, he spoke immediately, as he'd been planning his statement ever since Draco's turn.

"I've never had sex with a blond."

The smirk Draco had been wearing perpetually throughout the game faltered for a moment and then there was a brief moment of shock before it melted into amusement.

 _Is that so?_ Draco mouthed from across the table before taking a healthy gulp of Firewhisky.

Harry wasn't sure if the sexual tension between him and Draco was palpable to anyone else, but it sure was driving him crazy.

Draco's next confession ratcheted Harry's hormones up even higher.

"I've never had sex with a Triwizard Tournament Champion."

Harry's eyes glazed over. Yep. Definitely driving him crazy.

All he wanted to do was have everyone clear out so that he could take Draco right here on the table. Or actually, they didn't have to leave. Harry was getting so hard that he didn't care if he had an audience. Gods, whose inane idea was it to play this game anyway?

_Oh yeah. Mine._

As time went on, everyone had either reached their saturation point or lost interest in the game and they decided to call it quits. Harry stood up on unsteady legs and crossed over to Draco.

Draco stood up in a much more graceful manner, but Harry could still see the unfocused quality to his eyes.

"I'll still see you tonight?" Harry asked. Thank Merlin his words didn't slur.

"You certainly will."

He didn't know if it was the liquor fueling Draco's actions, or pure arousal, but his eyes flew wide open as Draco dragged Harry to him by the front of his shirt and kissed him aggressively.

Harry was in love. Ok, not in love. But definitely in lust. That was for sure.

The kiss stopped as abruptly as it began and Harry was left standing in shock as Draco smirked, tossed him a careless wave, and walked outside.

Harry blinked stupidly and then licked his lips. He could taste the tequila that Draco had been drinking and he wanted more. Of Draco that is, not the tequila.

How in the hell was he supposed to survive tonight?

* * *

Either Draco's little display of affection earlier had scared potential suitors off, or people had lost interest in Harry in general, because no one approached him as he sat waiting for Draco to arrive at the dance-hall later that night. He had originally planned to go back to his bungalow after Game Day, get something to eat, and try to dry out for a while. However, he'd gotten sidetracked by Jahnna of all people, who insisted he have a few more drinks with her. In turn, she would give him any pointers he needed about blowjobs. Harry declined the information but accepted the drink offer, just hoping to divert her from any embarrassing topics. He could still too clearly see her fellating a dildo in his head and needed it to stop.

By the time he slipped away, he realized his tactic had not worked as he was more drunk than before, memory full of Jahnna's throat-numbing charms for giving head, and left with almost no time to get ready for his date.

Harry stumbled throughout the villa summoning a gray jersey knit t-shirt and dark denims to wear. A fast shower had him dressed and racing over to the dance-hall, hoping that he wasn't leaving the blond waiting.

But now, he was the one waiting. And had been for about twenty minutes if the enlarged Chronos Charm on the wall could be trusted. As he munched on mozzarella sticks, he finally saw a beacon of blond hair enter the room. Harry took the few moments that Draco was looking for him to evaluate the blond's stature. He certainly cut an impressive figure weaving through the small tables and drunken dancers. Draco was wearing another version of his linen shirt, but this time, it was unbuttoned just past his chest and there was no singlet lining it. Harry's cock thanked him for the attention to detail.

And the denims he wore were pure sin. Fitted without being tight, Draco looked like he'd been poured into the material. Or maybe the designer had made the clothes specifically for Draco's body. That idea seemed more likely.

Finally, gray eyes alighted on his table and Draco approached Harry with a small but genuine smile.

Harry's mouth went dry.

"Evening," Draco said with a smirk, regally lowering himself into the chair across from Harry. The table between them was so small that it was barely big enough to hold a decorative shell and Harry's drink. That meant that Draco was much too close to Harry and they were practically sitting in one another's lap. Not that Harry minded.

"Hi," Harry said weakly. There was something about seeing Draco like this that made Harry's heart race. Long gone was the face and sneering features he thought he'd known so well in Hogwarts. In that boy's place was a man who was confident and proud without having to step on other people in order to feel that way. A bloody gorgeous man in Harry's opinion, that he would very much like to get to know better. If Draco allowed him to.

"Still going from earlier I see," Draco noted, subtly gesturing toward the tumbler in front of Harry.

"It's just water actually," Harry mumbled. "I needed a break from drinking."

Draco chuckled. "Is that so?" he asked, viscerally reminding him of Draco mouthing the same words while playing 'I Never.'

"Yeah, my head was starting to get a bit fuzzy."

"Well, you know they say alcohol lowers your inhibitions. Maybe you should still be drinking." Draco's lithe fingers danced along the tabletop, momentarily grabbing Harry's attention.

"What do you have planned that you anticipate a need to lower my inhibitions?" Harry asked with curiosity. He had an idea of what Draco would say, but wanted to see those lightly pink-tinged lips move some more.

"From what I've seen and heard from you personally, you're not that comfortable dancing. In lieu of Felix Felicis, you might need a different kind of liquid luck."

"Are you implying that I'm scared Malfoy?" Harry asked, challenge and arousal competing in his gaze.

"Oh, I'm not implying Potter. I'm stating it as fact. You're scared to dance with me." Draco lifted his chin in defiance and waited for Harry's response.

There were only two things he could do. He could prove Draco right and stay tucked away at the table while the others danced their cares away. Or, he could grab Draco's hand, drag him onto the dance floor and not give a flying fuck if everyone stared or if he tortured Draco's toes.

Gryffindor courage rising, he decided on the latter.

The expression on Draco's face as he was tugged from his seat was positively priceless and Harry could foresee himself reviewing this memory in a Pensieve later. Bewildered, Draco allowed himself to be pulled along and when Harry finally whipped him around so that they were face to face (and groin to groin) he was wearing an open expression of shock and excitement.

"Such a brute Potter," Draco murmured, but his eyes were heavily-lidded.

Harry tried not to allow the closeness of the blond's body affect his breathing, but it was hard.

"You like it," Harry said, equally quiet.

"That's beside the point." Harry could just barely make out a red tint flooding Draco's cheeks. So manhandling turned the blond on? Duly noted.

Swallowing thickly, he shifted his weight from foot to foot, anxiety catching up with him. The music of the club was a heavy pulsing beat of something he'd never heard before. "So you're the expert, what do we do?" Harry asked finally.

Draco smirked and smoothly wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. Their bodies were flush against one another and Harry fiercely told his prick to stand down.

"We do this," Draco said roughly and began moving his hips in a sinuous fashion against Harry.

Maybe dancing hadn't been such a good idea after all...

Harry felt like he was just learning what dancing was all about. The waltzing and formal dancing of the Yule Ball was apparently not how gay adult wizards danced. They danced with aggression, fluid movements, and numerous helpings of sex appeal. Harry felt himself being moved along with the motions both by Draco's pelvis and the guiding hands on his waist. And just that quickly, the crowd melted away. In Harry's mind a simple spotlight was cast on Draco's form and all he could see was his dancing partner, the rest of the room dimming away in shadows. Blood flowed through his veins so quickly that he felt light-headed. Or maybe that was due to the amount of people crowded on the dance floor. Harry didn't know anymore. He just knew that the blond's arms felt amazing wrapped around him and he could see himself doing this all night.

"Are you having fun?" Draco asked in Harry's ear about ten minutes later, sending a tantalizing thrill through Harry's nervous system.

"Yeah," Harry's voice was deep and gravelly and he was borderline embarrassed to hear his sex voice seeping into this very public situation.

Draco looked pleased and responded. "Maybe a little too much fun…fancy getting some more water?"

Harry reluctantly removed his hands from Draco's hips and backed away slowly. "You go on. I'm going to sit for a minute."

Draco looked at him questioningly for a moment before nodding and walking away. But not before his hands grazed Harry's denim-covered bum on their way down his body.

Stumbling blindly toward their table, Harry tried to catch his breath, fighting the dizzying effects of Draco's 'dancing.' But then a pair of hands was around his waist and he very nearly fell backwards onto the person behind him.

"Easy Harry, how much have you had to drink?" Phoebe asked.

Harry dropped his head and laughed darkly. "Not nearly enough." He closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to balance his equilibrium.

"What's wrong?" she whispered softly. Harry was surprised he could hear her over the throbbing bass. She encircled her arms around his waist and stepped closer as though wanting him to rest his weight on her petite frame.

"Just this thing with Draco. It's messing with my head. I'm torn between wanting to fuck him up against a wall and wanting to sit with him and have him tell me all his secrets. Bloody pathetic way to respond to someone I've only truly known for about 48 hours."

Phoebe gave an echoing laugh which resounded in his ear, but not in the same way Draco's whispers did. "Maybe now you know how I feel about Cory."

Harry thought about that for a moment until he heard a familiar voice in front of him. "I got myself some water too," Draco said quietly, holding out a fresh tumbler in Harry's direction. Harry smiled at him and then faltered when Draco didn't smile back. Then he looked down and realized Phoebe's arms were still wound around his middle.

"Who's this then?" Draco asked off-handedly, but Harry could see a hardening glint in the gray eyes.

"I'm Phoebe," the woman said, backing up from Harry and extending a hand in Draco's direction.

Recognition dawned in Draco's eyes and he softened his gaze before taking Phoebe's hand and kissing it gently.

"Pleasure to meet you. Harry's told me a lot about you," he said kindly. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

Now it was Phoebe's turn to look on with recognition. "Malfoy," she repeated feebly. Harry had never mentioned Draco's last name, and didn't think he had to. He was positive there couldn't be very many Draco's in the world.

"Yes," Draco watched her with veiled apprehension until she laughed and shook her head.

"Always up for a challenge, aren't you Harry?" she said fondly.

"I guess I am," Harry chuckled back weakly and looked back to Draco to gauge his reaction.

He was looking on the exchange between Harry and Phoebe with obvious amusement. "I'll be sure to keep him on his toes," Draco said, eyes only for Harry.

"I don't think it's his toes you should be concentrating on," she said saucily.

Harry felt a sharp pull of excitement work it's way from the pit of his stomach all the way down to his crotch. He downed the glass of water Draco had brought him in one go. Draco's expression was pure heat and Harry wanted to burn in it for eternity.

"Right. I'll just leave you to it then," Phoebe said with laughter in her voice. She turned tail quickly and headed back off in the direction from which she came.

"That's Phoebe," Draco said, banishing Harry's tumbler with a non-verbal spell and pulling him close again.

"Yep, that's crazy incarnate," Harry rasped, trying to laugh, but failing against the feel of Draco's pectorals against his own. "Were you jealous?" He hoped that he didn't royally fuck things up teasing the blond this way.

Draco's eyes narrowed and Harry could sense something biting coming his way.

"Yes," Draco replied, his voice clipped. Harry stopped his gyrating and stared at his partner in crime. Well that was a response he hadn't been expecting. Snark, yes. Annoyance, a given. But flat-out truth? That was…surprising.

"Really?" Harry asked timidly. He wasn't used to dealing with lovers and their jealousy issues. It felt rather nice.

"Yes, I was jealous Potter. No need to rub it in." Draco was now blushing and seemed to be trying to bury his burning face in Harry's shoulder.

"If it makes you feel any better, I was jealous of the bloke on the other side of you when we were playing Suck and Blow," Harry admitted.

Draco's head jerked up and his look was wary and disbelieving. "Next you'll be telling me you were jealous of the chair I was sitting on."

Harry gave him a mischievous look and grinned. "Well, now that you mention it…"

"Stop it," Draco admonished, cuffing Harry round the arm, but he looked pleased.

"What are we doing Draco? And don't tell me 'dancing.' I'm not that daft." He nestled his head into the nook of Draco's neck, not wanting to see his expression.

He could feel Draco's fingers clench briefly around his waist and then loosen. "I'm not sure," he said after a beat. "Do we have to define it?"

Harry frowned into Draco's shoulder. "I suppose not. I just keep wondering when everyone is going to jump out and yell 'gotcha!' I mean, was this attraction always there, or are we just lonely and clinging to each other?"

"Potter," Draco said quietly. "We've only been at this for a day, and we haven't even properly shagged. Can you relax on the analysis for the time being?"

He bristled at the idea of being treated like a hormonal 15 year old girl, but supposed that's how he was acting. This whole idea of closeness and intimacy was so foreign to him that he supposed he was taking it a bit too far, too fast.

"Then how about we get out of here and you help me stop thinking and just feel for a while?" Harry asked in his best seductive voice.

"That I may be able to do." Draco gave him a huge shark-like grin and took his hand, dragging him off the dance floor as forcefully as Harry had dragged him on.

They weaved their way through the crowd and threw elbows to fight their way to the exit. Harry inhaled the cool ocean breeze once they finally emerged outside. The air inside the building was just too close. Draco still had a firm grip on his hand, but it loosened into an affectionate grip as they walked along the sand under the moonlight.

"Déjà vu," Harry muttered thinking about the night before and their walk to Draco's bungalow.

"What's that?" Draco asked, sounding distracted.

"Nothing." Harry tried not to look Draco in the face, remembering all too well how much the blond's visage had distracted him the previous night.

"Yours or mine?" Draco asked.

Harry thought. "Mine I suppose. It's closer." Draco's eyes darkened at the implication in Harry's words and his hand flexed involuntarily against Harry's.

"Let's go then." Draco pulled Harry along at a brisk pace until they were at the front door of Harry's villa. Harry fumbled for his wand, distracted as Draco began dancing his fingers along the hem of Harry's shirt. He finally managed to pull it from his back pocket and touched it to the door, practically falling with Draco through the portal in eagerness.

Draco stood close to Harry, near enough that he could feel the fine hairs on the other man's arms. "Yours looks about the same as mine," he commented lightly while looking around the suite.

Harry nodded and then turned to face Draco fully. He took in the sharp features in front of him. The stunning gray eyes, much warmer than anything he'd ever seen in school. Pouty pink lips that were just begging to be kissed. And those damned strands of blond hair falling into his face, giving him a carefree and tousled appearance.

Harry didn't know why he was attracted to the former git. He didn't know why the attraction was so strong and so sudden. But he didn't care. There were things he wanted to know more right now. And he was going to get answers to those more pressing enquiries first.

Gripping Draco by the shoulder, he pulled the other man into an aggressive kiss; similar to the one Draco had given him following the Game Day proceedings. Caught off guard, Draco stumbled a bit, but was quickly pulled into an upright position from Harry's grip on his upper body.

His lips felt like heaven, and even though Harry was drunk and tired and wanted to fall into Draco's presence like a warm bath, he forged on. The kiss grew deeper, tongues swiping against each other and forcing tiny sounds out of Draco that were like tugs on Harry's cock each time he heard them. His hands were everywhere, carding through Draco's incredibly soft locks, fingertips tracing the muscles of his stomach through his shirt, sinking his hands into the back pockets of Draco's denims and pulling him forward forcefully.

"Fuck," Draco gasped as their erections met and Harry shuddered hard. He moved his mouth down from Draco's lips and blazed a trail down to his neck where he licked and bit sharply. Gods he wanted this so badly. His prick was swollen past recognition and he wanted nothing more than to shove Draco on his knees and have the blond suck him off. But he restrained himself. Barely.

Resisting temptation to turn Draco into his own personal sex slave, he grabbed Draco's erection through his jeans and massaged it forcefully. Draco groaned and dropped his head onto Harry's shoulder. "Yes," he hissed.

Harry could only agree. 'Yes' was the only way to describe this feeling. In one fell swoop, he dropped to his knees and began undoing Draco's fly. The speed of his movement rushed to his head and he momentarily felt dizzy and tired. Nothing for it though. He was going to make this happen.

"Harry, are you sure?" Draco looked down at him, eyes cloudy with lust.

Merlin, even if he hadn't been sure before, he definitely would be now after seeing that debauched expression.

"So sure." Harry opened Draco's jeans completely and palmed the straining erection through the fabric of Draco's pants. He felt his own cock jump in response and wished he had the wherewithal to deal with both hard-ons at once. As it was, he pulled Draco's length out quickly, teasing the head with barely parted lips. Harry heard Draco hiss in a breath before placing his hands on the back of Harry's head for balance. They were still in the foyer of Harry's bungalow for fuck's sake, too eager to even cross the additional ten steps to the bedroom. But Harry was too far gone to worry about that. He gave the head of Draco's cock a wet kiss that was more tongue than lips and enjoyed the resulting shiver that ran the length of Draco's body.

That was encouragement enough as far as he was concerned. Harry took as much of Draco's erection in his mouth as he could, relishing the way Draco thrust his hips gently, not wanting to just ram himself down Harry's throat.

"So good," Draco murmured.

Harry hummed his agreement around Draco's prick and was ready for the forceful jab that came right after. He swallowed around the intrusion and heard Draco whimper above him. Gods, what an amazing sound that was.

Soon Draco fell into a steady rhythm, essentially holding Harry's head still and fucking his mouth. Harry kept his eyes closed and relaxed into the motion of Draco entering his mouth again and again. The motion was oddly soothing. Taking deep breaths through his nose, he inhaled in and out…

He was getting really sleepy.

…in and out…

…in and out…


	6. The Fifth Element

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sun, sand, and sex.

**Day Five**

When Harry woke up the following morning, he stretched lazily in his bed relishing in the feel of soft sheets and a warm body behind him.

Wait. What?

Eyes snapping open immediately, he turned around and was met with the sleepy gray eyes of Draco Malfoy. And then his hangover caught up with him. He was really going to have to keep a bulk supply of Hangover Potion if he was going to be drinking this much.

"Hi," Draco said softly. His hair was mussed and there was an indentation on his cheek from where the sheet had been pressed against it. Harry didn't think he'd seen a more beautiful sight. Gods, last night had been amazing. The dancing, the flirting, the blowjob.

Harry frowned at Draco trying to think around the hammering in his head. Did they have sex last night? He didn't think so, but couldn't rightly remember. To be truthful, he couldn't even remember what Draco had looked like when he came. Actually, he thought in fright, he couldn't remember anything past the blowjob. Fuck, had he been drugged? Or had something unsavory happened and Draco Obliviated him to cover it up? The panicked play of emotions on his face must have been easily readable, as Draco laughed softly and nestled closer to Harry.

"Calm down," he said, voice deep and rough from sleep. "You fell asleep while you were blowing me, that's all."

And now Harry was panicked for a different reason. He had fallen asleep? While giving head? Oh Gods, no…

He gave a long groan and scooted back from Draco, promptly burrowing his head under a pillow in mortification.

"Merlin Draco, I'm so sorry," he said to the mattress. "I've never done that before."

Draco gave another laugh and tugged the pillow from Harry's grip, exposing him to the outside world again. "It wasn't ideal, I assure you," Draco drawled. "But there's plenty of time for you to make it up to me."

Harry cracked an eye open and took in Draco's half-exasperated, half-amused expression. "I would have expected you to be furious with me."

"I'm not."

"And you spent the night here," Harry said, opening both eyes now and propping himself up on an elbow.

"Astute of you to notice."

Relief flooded Harry's insides and he moved closer to Draco, placing open-mouthed kisses on the blond's neck.

"Wait, wait," Draco said, pushing lightly at Harry's chest. "I'm still exhausted and it's only 7am. Go back to sleep and you can begin your apology later."

Harry shot him a grateful smile and pecked his lips lightly. "Ok."

Dropping back down to the mattress, he went to turn his back to Draco, but Draco stopped the movement with a hand on his shoulder. He lay stock-still on his back as Draco wiggled over on the bed and arranged himself in a lazy sprawl over Harry's torso. It wasn't until Draco nuzzled his face into Harry's neck that he exhaled. He watched in fascination as a few hairs on Draco's head fluttered with his breath.

Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and held onto him tightly. Draco only wriggled some more, making himself more comfortable before his breathing evened out and he fell asleep.

Harry lay holding Draco in his arms for a long time before he drifted off, despite his previous exhaustion. He let his thoughts take him while he stared at the ceiling and listened to the sleepy sounds Draco made.

* * *

"Harry wake up."

Harry's eyes fluttered groggily as he tried to open them. Draco was no longer in the bed beside him, but was near the patio slipping into his denims from the night before. It was just then that Harry realized they had spent the night together with both of them wearing nothing but t-shirts and their underpants.

Harry stole a few moments to enjoy the view and then Summoned his denims to fly into his outstretched hands. Draco looked at him ruefully.

"What?" Harry asked.

"I got up to get my trousers. You should have done the same." Draco pouted and sat on the edge of the bed to root around for his trainers.

"You just wanted to see my arse Malfoy." And for some reason the thought of that made Harry jubilant.

Draco shrugged gracefully. "You have a fine arse Potter. And I'm an admirer of the finer things in life."

Something purred deep in Harry's chest at the compliment. "What else do you admire about me?" Harry asked cheekily.

Finally pulling on his shirt, Draco responded. "Well we didn't get very far last night. I'll have to let you know later." Gray eyes deepened and Harry's mouth grew dry.

"Gods, you always know what to say Draco."

"Blame my pure-blood upbringing," Draco smirked. "Now come on, I'm starved. And I want to go out among the living."

"Fine brat, let's go." Harry finished dressing quickly and shivered when Draco shot a mild Scourgify in his direction.

"Can't have you smelling like a mountain troll at brunch, now can I?"

Harry was affronted. "I don't smell like a mountain troll! Do I? Draco?"

Draco was already through the front door and walking down to the sand, but Harry could hear him laughing from where he stood.

Harry jogged to catch up. _Prat_.

* * *

Funny how it had been four full days since Harry had arrived at the Resort, but this was his first time going down for a group meal. The concept of being brought meals in bed by the Resort's house elves had proved to be too tempting – though he would never tell Hermione that.

The other funny thing was that it seemed Draco was becoming more comfortable around him. He hadn't worn his Glamour since the night they had gone out to dinner and Harry felt an odd little fluttering in his chest at that knowledge. If the other guests thought it was strange that Draco Malfoy had suddenly popped up in the middle of their trip, they didn't mention it. Perhaps enough time had passed for Draco to be accepted after all.

They walked into the cafeteria that afternoon, shoulders touching lightly as they approached the buffet-style line.

"What are you going to have?" Harry asked, suddenly ravenous. He supposed he hadn't consumed as much food as he should have the day before. One could not survive on alcohol alone after all.

"Probably a chicken salad wrap," Draco mused, peering at the selections over the heads of the people in front of them. "I saw them yesterday and they looked pretty good."

Harry salivated at the thought. Gods, how long had it been since he'd eaten? "That sounds good," he replied, tongue thick.

Draco turned and cocked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing in response.

The line moved along slowly and eventually Harry was picking up a plate and loading it with mini reuben sandwiches, mashed potatoes, and corn on the cob. Frowning, he noticed that there wasn't enough room on his plate for everything he wanted to get. He heard a short laugh in front of him and turned to see Draco looking at him with amusement. "You know, you can come back up to get more. It's not going to disappear."

Harry's cheeks colored. He hadn't thought about that. Even now, it was rather hard to get out of the Dursley mentality, that he should grab everything he could all at once before Dudley had at it.

"Right," he said quietly and followed behind Draco to an empty table.

They ate in silence for a while, Harry unable to concentrate on anything other than relieving the hunger pains in his stomach. Once he was feeling relatively normal again, he looked up and glanced around the cafeteria, taking in the scenery. The walls of the room were charmed to look like the inside of an aquarium. All around them, tropical fish and other deep sea creatures floated along the walls, swimming happily and occasionally splashing an unsuspecting guest with an errant fin.

Then he turned his attention to the patrons. Unlike the big group dinner Harry had attended his first night there, people had begun coupling off and stratifying after the first few nights. There were now little pockets of people, grouped in threes and fours, instead of the fifteen-person groups from the Welcome Dinner. Turning his head to the left, he caught sight of Russell two tables away, chatting up a willowy young man whose name Harry couldn't remember. As if sensing Harry's gaze, he lifted his head and turned abruptly in Harry's direction. A small smirk appeared on his face that Harry couldn't help mimicking. And then Russell took note of Draco sitting across from Harry. His eyes widened slightly and Harry watched his back and shoulders visibly stiffen. The man he'd been talking to finally noticed Russell's inattention and turned in the same direction until he too was staring at Harry and Draco.

Harry abruptly turned back to face Draco, watching him take a precise bite of his wrap. After swallowing he said, "What was that all about?"

He started, unaware that Draco had noticed the undue attention from the other table. "I'm not sure," Harry replied honestly. "Maybe he's surprised to see me associating with someone other than Phoebe."

Draco snorted, reaching for a napkin. "I think it's more that he's surprised to see you associating with a Malfoy."

Harry cringed, hoping that wasn't true. Sure, Harry'd had his doubts upon seeing Draco again, but he truly was different from the person he'd known in school. Just as confident, but also aware of other's feelings and not as…sneery. He couldn't imagine the version of Draco he knew now ever wanting to participate with the Death Eaters. But perhaps Russell couldn't, or wouldn't, see that.

"I think that he should deal with it. I'm not going anywhere," Harry said idly, scraping his plate with the side of his fork to scoop up the remains of his potatoes. Let Draco take that comment as he would. He had finally gotten the blond's attention, and would be hard-pressed to give him up now.

Flicking his eyes up in Draco's direction he caught a faint blush tingeing the ivory skin. And it was…pretty. Harry couldn't think of another word for it.

"I should have known I'd never be able to get rid of you Potter," Draco commented, but the corners of his mouth lifted into a tiny smile.

"Boy-Who-Lived, remember?" Harry joked.

Draco let out an unexpected chortle and Harry's insides warmed peculiarly. Though the conversation turned to different subjects, he was perfectly content to replay Draco's smile and laughter in his head over and over again instead of paying attention. And it wasn't weird. Nope, not even a little.

* * *

Later that day, back in Harry's room, he and Draco were trying to decide if they should go back to the gift shop or sit out on the beach. Draco had put the discussion on pause to use the loo, so Harry wandered over to the door where the itinerary was updating itself with upcoming events.

_Come join us and make sand castles...the Muggle way! Spend some time playing in the surf and designing sandy works of art. For those of you wanting to challenge your skills against others, enter the Sand Castle Competition. Individual contestants and teams of up to four may join in a chance to win a Grand Prize of a free week's stay at an upcoming Eden event. But remember, no wands allowed._

A huge grin came over Harry's face.

"Draco?" he called across the suite. "I know what we're doing today."

Harry had gotten extreme amusement out of the horrified expression on Draco's face when he suggested they enter the sand castle competition.

"And why, Potter," Draco drawled, sounding more like his 14 year old self than ever, "would I want to help you build sand castles?"

"Because Malfoy, it will be fun."

Besides, Harry refused to take no for an answer and veritably pulled Draco by the wrist down to the beach and registration table.

In no time at all, they were seated on the sand with Harry throwing out vague ideas about their strategy.

"Do you even know _how_ to make sand castles like a Muggle?" Draco asked, looking distinctly unnerved.

Harry paused in his ramblings. "Well, not officially. But it can't be too difficult."

Draco merely raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest.

"Let's just pick an idea, please?" Harry pleaded.

"Fine." Draco rolled his eyes and scooted closer to the huge mound of sand between them. "I want to create a replica of Malfoy Manor."

Harry stared silently at Draco for several moments. "You do remember that we're not using magic right? We might as well model it after Hogwarts for all that."

Draco's gray eyes darkened to a dangerous cloudy color.

"Right. No Hogwarts. We'll try the Manor then, if that's what you want. Now we can use these," Harry pointed to a rectangular bucket, "to make the block shapes, and smooth down the sand with the back of this shovel."

"Can we try to make the peacocks as well?" Draco asked, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

Harry fought down a laugh and nodded enthusiastically. "Whatever you like."

As they made further plans, shimmering barriers rose between all the contestants.

"Suppose they don't want us spying on other people's creations," Draco muttered mutinously as though he'd been planning on doing exactly that.

Secretly, Harry was in agreement. He'd seen Muggle movies and tv shows where the families had made sand castles, but wasn't sure how the theory would differ from the practice.

Bridget appeared soon after, standing behind a judge's table to explain the rules. They all would have one hour to finish their sculpture, after which the judges, who included Eden and Jahnna of all people, would give a rating for teams and individuals. The highest score, of course, would win.

"Is everyone ready?" she asked.

Harry looked at Draco with a sheepish grin and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Begin!"

A large golden sand timer appeared over the heads of the participants, granules already dropping down into the base to denote the seconds passing.

They started off shaping several blocks for the foundation of the building, Draco serving more of the architect than the construction worker.

"Potter, don't put that there!" Draco called, as Harry was about to drop a bucket of sand on top of one of the towers to create a turret.

Harry's left eye twitched, already irritated at Draco's constant instructions. "Why not?"

"There's no turret on that side of the Manor, just a sloping roof."

"Well, if you helped, things would go where they're supposed to and we might finish sometime this decade."

Draco scowled, but removed the bucket from Harry's hands. Harry watched in fascination as Draco's fingers, slowly, but methodically, shaped the top of the tower into a roof-like feature.

"Brilliant!" Harry said with a wide smile. He ignored the smug look Draco threw back at him, and instead worked on detailing the doors and windows.

The next fifty minutes went quickly and Harry found himself catching glimpses of Draco, hands crusted with sand, eyes narrowed in concentration, but wearing a pleasant, almost happy expression on his face as he worked.

"Draco, catch that!" Harry called when he tore his gaze from Draco's face and noticed the eastern wall of the castle was crumbling.

Draco, with a quickness that reminded Harry that the blond had also been a Seeker, spread his fingers and pushed the sand back into place. Harry knelt next to him and reinforced the wall while Draco kept it steady. They worked together in a quiet partnership, effortlessly moving around one another and supporting as the other built. They were doing so well in fact, that Harry wondered what his Potions grade would have been if he'd had Draco as a partner.

"Not as bad as you thought it would be, is it?" Harry prodded quietly, after their crises was averted and they tried to put the finishing touches on the grounds surrounding the Manor.

"It's not as asinine as I'd imagined," he murmured.

Harry raised an incredulous brow. "Admit it, you're having fun."

He waited as Draco dragged a finger through the sand to denote the walkway leading to the front doors.

"I'm having fun." Draco looked up into Harry's eyes with a twinkle in his own. Harry felt his gut tighten at the relaxed and particularly carefree expression on the blond's face. It was the type of look he wouldn't mind seeing more of in the future. Even after their holiday in Fiji was over.

"Five minutes remaining!" Bridget's voice called over a Sonorous Charm.

"Shit," Harry muttered, looking over their replica of Malfoy Manor. Or what was supposed to be a replica anyway. It looked more like a shoddy hut with dunce hats on top, but there wasn't much more they could do at this point.

"We aren't going to win are we?" Draco asked him without looking up from their creation.

Harry frowned further. "Doubtful. Not unless everyone else suddenly lost control of their hand-eye coordination during the course of this competition."

Draco chuckled and finally looked Harry in the eye. His face was resigned, but not sulky like Harry had thought it might be.

"Somehow I had grander visions of this in my head."

"Well, you're used to the finer things in life. It's to be expected." Harry shrugged with a grin. "Besides, I think this was more about the journey anyway."

"Working together without hexing each other you mean?"

Harry let his fingers run through some excess sand that had accumulated next to their sculpture. "Yeah. It was kind of fun, once we got the hang of it. Never thought in school that I would enjoy doing something like that with you."

"In school, I never thought that I would enjoy doing anything with you," Draco replied with a smirk.

"Point." Harry's mind turned over the events of the past few days in amazement. It was true that he'd never truly expected to find a companion on this trip, and certainly not with Draco Malfoy of all people. So the fact that he was now contemplating what it would be like doing mundane Muggle things with Draco back home was surprising.

"Say, do you think when the week is over-"

Before Harry could finish his sentence, a gong sounded along the beach signaling the end of the competition. All around them the wards dropped and buckets and shovels were popping out of sight. Harry could feel a protective bubble surround their castle to ensure that they couldn't make any 11th hour changes.

"Well, here we go," Draco said under his breath as the three judges began to work the circuit, ooh-ing and ah-ing over different pieces. Harry could see right away that theirs certainly wasn't the worst of the lot. But it definitely was not the best either. In fact, there was a sand version of the Ministry that made Harry suspect more than one person had used their wands illegally.

He turned back to Draco, who was chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully. Harry smiled gently at the show of uncertainty and moved closer to place his hand over the blond's. Their hands were gritty, spotted with dark brown sand that had gotten wet and stuck to their skin. Gray eyes darted to his face in surprise and Harry continued smiling.

"We're not going to win. But we worked hard and worked well together. Sometimes that's more important than winning." His pep talk sounded a touch trite to his ears, but seemed to have the intended effect on Draco. A breathtaking smile crossed his face and Harry basked in the glow of it, unaware that Eden, Jahnna, and Bridget had come over to rate their sculpture.

"Harry, Draco, may we ask what your sculpture is?" Eden looked down at the mass of sand with a quizzical frown while the women flanked his sides silently.

"It's a representation of Malfoy Manor," Draco responded proudly. And if he was feeling less than confident about their effort, Harry couldn't tell from his voice.

"It's very, er, unique," Jahnna said politely. Bridget merely gave them an overly bright smile.

"Ladies, what do you think?" Eden asked, tearing his eyes away from the spectacle. They huddled together and spoke in whispered voices while Harry and Draco looked at each other despondently.

"Right," Bridget said after a moment's pause. "Your score is six."

"Out of?" Harry asked.

"Ten," Jahnna answered.

Harry scratched at his neck, causing grains of sand to tumble down his back. "Oh."

"That's better than I expected," Draco said from beside him while the judges moved on to the next sculpture.

"I reckon so." Harry looked back over to Draco, his stomach expanding with hippogriffs as he took in the pretty pale skin of his partner. "Why don't we get out of here?" he said suddenly.

Draco's brow furrowed. "They haven't finished judging yet," he said softly.

Harry shrugged. "Don't care. We're not going to win anyway, remember? Let's do something else instead."

"Like what?" Draco inquired, but salacious ideas were clearly dawning in his head.

Harry's voice deepened. "I think we can figure something out." He laughed as Draco grabbed his hand and yanked him up from the ground, pulling them both in the direction of the bungalows.

* * *

"I can't believe you've dragged me back out here again." Draco gave the first sneer Harry had seen in a long time as he glared at the hot sand beneath their feet. They had spent some time engrossed in an intense makeout session in Harry's bungalow, before eating. Harry had then suggested lying out on the beach to relax a bit.

 _No, you just want to show him off_ , a little voice inside his head chimed. He couldn't deny the fact that he rather enjoyed the attention he was receiving by having Draco on his arm. The blond was bloody gorgeous and he knew without a doubt that the stares they were getting were less about who they were and more about what a handsome couple they made.

"You seemed perfectly comfortable out here the other day," Harry commented, remembering how enamored he'd been by his mystery blond just two days ago.

Draco's forehead crinkled in confusion. "You were out here that day?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Too caught up in holding court to look around you I see. Yes, I was here. That was the day Russell starting hitting on me."

Draco huffed. "Good grief. You should be thanking your lucky stars that I came along and scooped you up before you were devoured by that monstrosity," he said, flopping down to the beach blanket and laying on his stomach. He'd shucked his shirt somewhere along the way and Harry was treated to that flawless skin yet again.

"My hero," Harry muttered distractedly. "Aren't you going to wear a Sunblock Charm?"

Draco lazily flicked his wand toward his back and Harry watched as a faint shimmer covered his skin in a protective layer. And then his own skin tingled as Draco applied the charm on Harry as well.

"Aren't you tired of performing grooming spells on me yet?" Harry said, lying down next to the blond.

"A touch. But someone has to do it and you obviously can't be arsed to." Draco closed his eyes as a particularly pleasant breeze blew over them.

"I was the one who reminded you," Harry said defensively, but it was no use. Draco seemed to be lolling in his own world. Until he spoke.

"You know, Muggles have this salve that they rub into their skin to protect them from the sun," Draco commented without opening his eyes.

Harry cocked his head to the side, regarding Draco strangely. "I know. But I didn't know you knew that."

Draco cracked open one eye, involuntarily reminding Harry of how they'd woken up that morning. "I'm a wealth of knowledge Potter. And believe it or not, I'm not the Muggle-hating little shit that you thought you knew in school. I actually find it interesting seeing how they've adapted to not having magic."

Now that knocked Harry for six. It was one thing witnessing Malfoys tolerating Muggles, but actively seeking out and investigating their culture? This was unheard of. Though it did make more sense when Harry thought about Draco's interest in learning how to play strip poker and the other Muggle games.

"Maybe you and Arthur Weasley should hang out," Harry suggested.

Draco gave him a glare so intense and heated that Harry was suddenly very glad that he was protected by the Sunblock Charm. And then Draco's head dropped in shame. "Sorry. Old habits die hard. I'm sure he's a perfectly pleasant bloke, but I don't think I'd want to spend an extended period of time with him."

Harry shrugged. "Who knows? You probably would have said the same thing about me a week ago, but look where we are now."

Draco looked at him incredulously. "When Arthur Weasley starts looking like you do in denims maybe I'll consider that prospect."

A fiery blush spread on Harry's cheeks and neck. He was still getting used to the idea that Draco was attracted to him.

"So you only want me for my arse?" Harry joked, moving closer to Draco's body on the blanket.

"It's one of many physical aspects that I find intriguing about you. For instance, despite the fact that your hair is inexplicable ninety-nine percent of the time, it was amazingly soft when I held your face to my crotch last night." Draco's voice dropped to a whisper for the end of that sentence, forcing Harry to lean in close to hear him.

Harry swallowed. "What else?" he asked in a suddenly raspy voice. He didn't care if he was fishing for compliments this time. Draco's words and tone were too arousing to just let lie.

Draco's eyes blazed a burning silver. He licked his lips as though closing in on prey. "There's something about your hipbones."

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned at the statement. What was wrong with his hipbones?

"You're perfectly fit," Draco clarified in a low voice. "But your hipbones jut out just a touch and…"

"And what?" Harry asked, shifting on the blanket to adjust his burgeoning erection.

Draco ran a finger down the length of Harry's side, stopping right at the object of his obsession. "And it makes me want to lick and suck on them until I leave a bruise and you're writhing with pleasure below me."

Harry inhaled a rattling, shaky breath. "Oh."

"Oh is right," Draco went on, now curling his fingers as best he could under the waistband of Harry's shorts. "It was all I could do to control myself when I took your trousers off last night and got a good look at them."

"You sure you didn't molest me in my sleep?" Harry asked weakly.

"Quite sure. Though it didn't stop me from wanting to. Pity you fell asleep when you did."

Someone had replaced the saliva in Harry's mouth with cotton – he was certain of it.

"I never got to ask you," Harry started, feeling ridiculously ashamed that he even had to ask this question. "Did you, you know, come, last night?"

Draco gave a gusty, but not unpleasant sigh. "You had me well on my way, but unfortunately, no."

"Christ," Harry said, letting his forehead drop to the beach blanket. "If I haven't said it enough, I'm really sorry."

Draco gave him a friendly smile. "You've said it enough. I know you didn't fall asleep because you were bored. I'm not that insecure."

"You're insecure?" Harry asked, grasping onto the change in topic with an iron fist.

"Of course. Don't be daft. Everyone is insecure about something. I'm certain even you have things you're unconfident about."

Harry thought back to his previous blind dates and his anxiety that people were only interested in him because of his fame instead of his personality. Draco was right.

"I do," Harry admitted, wondering how they'd gone from flirting to a semi-heavy topic so quickly.

"Care to share?" Draco asked idly. "Or are you worried that I'll tease you?"

Harry chuckled. "I think the day that you don't tease me is the day the world ends. I just get insecure about who I am and how people see me. I'm always worried that people only want to be my friend or date me because I'm the Dark Lord Vanquisher."

"Is that your new title? The Dark Lord Vanquisher?" Draco asked archly.

"Hush you," Harry admonished, swatting Draco on his bare arm. He would not let the feel of that warm smooth skin distract him. "I'm being serious."

Draco sobered immediately. "I know. And I think I understand. It must be hard to never know who your true friends are."

Harry nodded sadly. "It is. But at least I have George and Hermione and Ron. They've been with me through thick and thin. I know they're with me for the right reasons."

"Do you think I'm with you for the right reasons?" Draco asked, looking at Harry intently.

Harry faltered and Draco seemed to realize why.

"I don't mean, _with you_ , with you. I meant 'with you' in this moment, trying to be friends." Draco colored slightly at his gaffe. But the idea of being _with_ Draco didn't seem as scary or preposterous as it probably should have. He would have to analyze that later. Perhaps.

"I think you're with me for the right reasons," Harry said after some thought. "We've both grown a lot since Hogwarts and I don't think you'd befriend me or sleep with me because you had some ulterior motive. I don't believe you have the patience for that. If you really didn't want to be around me, you simply wouldn't, end of."

Draco looked thoughtful for a few moments. "That's somewhat accurate. But you're wrong about the ulterior motive."

Harry's heart thrummed in his chest. Gods, what insidious plot did Draco have planned?

"My true motive for wanting to sleep with you is to make you beg," Draco explained before Harry could enquire. "I love the idea of your body beneath mine, flailing back and forth, and you begging me in that husky voice to fuck you deeper and harder."

Harry stared. All the oxygen had been sucked out of the air, leaving him to open and close his mouth uselessly like a beached fish.

"You're joking," he said weakly, hardly able to get the words out, focused as he was on the imagery.

"Hardly." Draco's eyes had taken on a dark quality and Harry knew it wouldn't be much longer before he couldn't see the gray in them at all.

Harry's voice was raspy as he spoke. "I think we need to get back to the room."

* * *

Harry had a sense of déjà vu when they stumbled into his bungalow ten minutes later. Only this time, instead of pausing in the foyer, they tripped over one another's feet into the bedroom and fell onto the mattress, bouncing gently. Draco was laid out on top of Harry, connected at the mouth and carding a hand through Harry's untidy hair. Harry's chest was burning with excitement and arousal. It was incredible feeling the blond's body lined up with his own. He wrapped his arms around Draco's lithe waist as Draco moved his kisses from Harry's mouth down to his jaw and neck.

Harry practically purred. Draco's lips were soft and warm against his skin and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to know how they would feel against another part of his anatomy. They writhed together on Harry's bed, limbs entwined and breathing hard. Draco finally sat back and straddled Harry's waist to untie the drawstring of his shorts. His shirt was still off and he'd taken off Harry's somewhere near the front door. Harry's eyes narrowed in on the sight of nimble fingers unraveling the string, curious as to what Draco would look like completely nude. It wasn't as though he could remember much from last night and this morning didn't count as Draco'd had his briefs on.

With gliding movements, Draco leaned on an elbow to the side of Harry to push down his shorts and underwear in one go. Harry's breath caught in his chest. Gods, Draco's body was more incredible than he could have imagined. Light pink nipples decorated his chest and Harry allowed his gaze to drop from the wispy hairs on his stomach, to his abdomen, and then the springy curls at his groin. That perfect cock jutted out from the middle of it all and Harry's mouth watered at the sight of it.

"Gods Draco," he whispered.

Draco gave a sexy smirk. "Let's save all that until you're naked too." And with that, Draco leaned down on top of Harry, shimmied down to waist-level and proceeded to undo Harry's drawstring with his teeth.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. This was about ten different shades of intense. He looked down at the blond head bobbing near his crotch and nearly blew his load at the sight alone. How long had it been since he'd had a decent blow job? Scratch that – how long had it been since he'd had a blow job at all? He'd already embarrassed himself the night before by falling asleep. He didn't think Draco would excuse premature ejaculation in its stead.

So as Draco slid the clothes from Harry's lower body, he fought to keep himself both awake and in control. His erection sprang free and slapped against his belly, smearing his navel with the precome that had already gathered.

"Delicious," Draco whispered, causing Harry to tear his eyes away from his manhood and take in Draco's expression instead. His eyes were intense and had turned the deepest charcoal with his ministrations. Dipping his head low, he got down on his stomach and began tonguing at Harry's bollocks.

"Shit!" Harry cried out. Draco's tongue was so wet and warm and he didn't know if it was the fact that he hadn't been touched for a while or the sensitivity of the area itself that had him arching off the bed. He closed his eyes tightly as Draco swirled his tongue about, alternately sucking the sacs into his mouth and licking them with wide wet strokes.

Harry was going into an overload. He didn't want Draco to stop, but wanted to feel him all over his body all at once. Only one way to cure that.

"Come here," Harry rasped out.

He watched as Draco's head emerged from between his legs, eyebrow quirked. His gaze clearly asked, 'Yes?'

In lieu of responding, Harry reached down and pulled Draco up by his shoulders. As their faces met, their erections did too and they both keened at the sudden friction.

Draco let loose a loud moan into Harry's ear, ardently frotting against him. "Fuck yes," he whispered.

Harry had to agree. He wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and began meeting his thrusts. Cocks sliding and slipping against one another was just the sensation Harry needed to feel like a person again. Like a man again. For several minutes this went on until Draco groaned, long and sensually, body tensing on top of Harry's. Simultaneously, Harry felt warm jets of come coat his lower stomach and heard Draco mutter.

"Shit."

Harry felt a silly grin grow on his face. Draco had come before they'd even had a chance to have penetrative sex. He wasn't the only one that was having a hard time controlling himself and he was so glad.

"If you make fun of me Potter I'll lock you outside with nary a stitch on," Draco threatened from where his head was buried in Harry's chest.

"I wouldn't dare make fun of you, considering I was only about two steps behind you."

Draco lifted his sweaty forehead and looked at Harry critically. "Honestly?"

"Honestly," Harry answered, dropping his head back onto the pillows. He was still hard as a rock, but Draco's orgasm had taken something out of him as well, almost as though he'd sucked the life out of him.

A small smile grew on Draco's face. "Thank Merlin," he said, obviously relieved.

"And how could I possibly make fun of you after the embarrassment that was last night?" Harry asked ruefully.

"You might have a point there Potter," Draco chuckled, moving to lift himself out of the cooling mess of come on Harry's stomach and laying beside him. "And now, I think we should take care of this."

Draco reached down and tugged gently on Harry's cock. Harry hissed and closed his eyes, even from such a light touch. "What do you propose we do?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"I don't propose _we_ do anything. I propose, nay, _demand_ , that you fuck me." Draco tossed Harry a cheeky grin.

Harry didn't need to be told twice. With possibly more grace than he'd ever exuded, Harry shifted up and off of the bed, prowling over to his bags and pulling out the warming lube. Tossing the bottle up and down in his hand like a Snitch, he crossed back over to the bed and clambered over Draco.

Draco's eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the label. Harry quickly turned it from his view. He didn't want Draco to see that it had come from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. No need to start a potential row.

"I don't recognize that brand," Draco said with suspicion.

"And you wank so much that you're aware of every brand known to wizardkind?" Harry asked, coating his fingers with the thick liquid and tossed the bottle to the floor.

Draco flushed and Harry smirked that he'd rendered the blond speechless. "Just get started Potter," he said feebly.

"Gladly." Harry went to work coating Draco's opening with the lube, thoroughly enjoying the little gasps and whimpers Draco gave as his fingers breached inside. Mentally, he counted down from five until Draco moaned, "Holy fuck."

The warming aspect of the lubricant was kicking in and Harry loved how fiery hot Draco's insides felt to Harry's fingers. He could only imagine what it would feel like once he was able to slide his prick inside.

"It's not too hot, is it?" Harry murmured, still focused on his task.

"No, it feels…it feels like a warm tongue is deep inside me, wherever your fingers touch me," Draco answered, still blushing.

"Hmmm…that sounds nice."

Draco sucked in a deep breath, to compose himself, Harry assumed. "Maybe next time I can try it on you."

And yet again, the thought of Draco wanting to top Harry was almost a little _too_ arousing.

"Anything you want," Harry moaned. "Are you ready?" He knew that he probably hadn't spent enough time preparing Draco, but fuck if he didn't need to take the blond right now. They'd both waited far too long.

"Born ready," Draco replied, but his confident words were tempered by the breathy quality of his voice.

A bit of remorse hit Harry's soul. "Are you sure? I can-"

Draco cut off his next sentence by removing Harry's fingers from his arse and scooting down so that the crease of his bum bumped up against Harry's crotch.

"I said I'm ready," Draco retorted in the same ragged voice.

Inhaling so deeply that Harry's ribs felt fit to bursting, he hoisted Draco's legs onto his shoulders and carefully began sliding into the blond's tight heat.

The simultaneous groans proved just how necessary their coupling was. Harry paused to catch his breath once the head breached Draco's first ring of muscle.

"Easy," Draco warned and Harry immediately stilled over Draco's form. He continued his deep breathing as Draco got adjusted and didn't move again until Draco gave him a small nod.

"Sorry, it's just been a while," Draco mumbled, clutching Harry's back for leverage.

"Shh, don't apologize." Harry leaned forward as best he could, but could only reach Draco's sternum to drop a sweet kiss. He felt a sudden and fierce fondness for this man beneath him who had opened himself up so willingly and completely to Harry. He wanted to protect him and take care of him. But right now he really wanted to shag his brains out.

Pressing forward centimeter by centimeter, Harry eventually found himself completely seated inside Draco and congratulated himself for lasting even that long. He flicked his eyes up briefly to catch Draco's expression. The other man had his eyes closed tightly, but it didn't seem as though he was in pain.

"Still alright?" Harry asked.

Gray eyes opened and focused on his with difficulty. "Yeah."

His broken tone was far from poised and the most unraveled Harry had ever heard him, including hearing him come just a little while ago. Looking down, he saw that Draco was already semi-erect again and the thought that he'd had something to do with that bolstered Harry's spirits even further.

"Good," he replied and pulled back to enter into Draco at a sedate pace. Strange how what they thought would undoubtedly be a rousing debauched round of sex was more or less starting off as what could only be called lovemaking.

His thrusts were long and deep, but not pounding and Draco's breathing below him hitched several times when Harry would occasionally brush against his prostate.

"Faster. Please," Draco whimpered, looking up at Harry with a pleading expression that he couldn't possibly ignore. Harry sat back on his haunches, enjoying the gasp from Draco at the angle change. And then the timbre of their sex changed. They were both sweating as he slid in and out of Draco's passage with strokes that weren't as deep, but quicker and still managed to graze his sensitized bundle of nerves.

"Ohhh…yes Harry."

Harry could feel his lids lower at the praise. "Yes," he echoed managing to finagle Draco's legs so that he could press a kiss to the back of his knee. When he chanced a look back at Draco's face, the blond was looking at him with an odd expression; one that Harry was too dazed to recognize.

Several minutes of thrusting later, Harry felt himself nearing the edge and Draco seemed to realize it as well. Beneath him, Draco purposely tightened the muscles of his canal, making Harry cry out at the sensation. Moments later his limbs stiffened and he leaned over Draco as he emptied his seed deep inside the blond's body.

"Fucking hell," he growled, now fully collapsed on Draco's body.

"Mmm," Draco hummed beneath him, still grasping Harry's back for dear life. He could hear Draco's heartbeat hammering next to his ear and loved that he could get him so excited. In fact…

Harry forced himself up into a kneeling position and then proceeded to scoot backwards until he was half laying on Draco's thighs, half laying on the bed. Draco's cock was leaking precome and Harry wasted no time in lapping it up before engulfing half the length in his mouth.

"Christ Harry!" Draco yelled, hands coming down to tangle in Harry's hair. Harry smirked as best he could around his mouthful. He would more than make up for last night dammit.

He didn't waste time with slow sensual movements. He sucked with one purpose in mind – to get Draco off. There would be plenty of time for tender caresses and teasing later. At least Harry hoped there would.

When Draco began bucking his hips and bumping the back of Harry's throat, he wished he'd taken the time to perfect that throat-numbing charm Jahnna had taught him.

Draco began a low constant whimper that Harry now realized was a warning shot. Pleased, he moved three fingers and allowed them to sink into Draco's heat. Though the opening was already loosened from their earlier ministrations, his fingers caused enough friction to tip Draco over the edge and he came with a shout, gripping Harry's hair tightly.

Harry savored the taste of Draco's warm come on his tongue and swallowed greedily at the slightly sour essence. Above him, Draco's chest was heaving and red, valiantly attempting to bring his breathing under control.

Grinning stupidly, Harry moved back up Draco's body and lay down beside him, throwing an arm across Draco's stomach.

"Maybe I've just been out of the game for a while, but I think that was pretty bloody amazing," he said, resting his head on Draco's shoulder.

"I'd err on the side of 'pretty bloody amazing'," Draco said, turning his head and pressing his lips to Harry's unexpectedly. Harry nearly sighed into the kiss, but did close his eyes and allowed his heart rate to return to something resembling normal. When they broke apart, Draco looked at him with a slight blush and Harry wondered what that meant.

"What is it?" he questioned.

"It's stupid. I just really needed that and it feels good to not have to use my hand."

Harry inched closer. "Not stupid," he said, barely containing a yawn. "It's honest. I like the forthcoming Draco Malfoy."

To Harry's confusion, Draco only blushed harder and turned his head to look at the ceiling. Harry bit his lip, wondering if he'd said something wrong. But he didn't have long to think about it as he drifted off into a comfortable sleep just a few minutes later.

* * *

"What time is it?" Harry asked what felt like hours later. He'd woken up still tucked into Draco's side and the blond's eyelashes were fluttering in a way that indicated he was about to wake up as well.

"Hm?" Draco asked, shifting so that he was on his side facing Harry. His eyes were still closed, but he nestled his head in the crook of his left elbow while slipping his right hand over Harry's waist.

Harry grinned. "I asked what time it is."

"Who cares?" Draco retorted, bringing Harry's body closer to his own via the hand on his waist. Harry was nearly shaking with repressed laughter. Who knew Draco Malfoy was such a cuddle-bunny after sex? But Harry wasn't complaining; it was actually rather adorable.

Harry chanced a go at an equally sappy gesture and leaned forward to kiss the tip of Draco's nose. Draco's eyes fluttered open this time and he quirked the side of his mouth into a smile. "I'm not a Crup," he said softly.

"You sort of look like a cute blond one," Harry chucked. "You're all warm and cuddly and soft."

Draco tried his hardest to look affronted, but couldn't quite manage it when he broke out into a yawn. "If we're comparing one another to animals, then you rather resemble a panther right now."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "How so?"

Draco deigned to open his eyes now and focused on Harry with a fond expression. "Your hair is so dark and wild like panther fur. And you're lithe, but strong and…" he trailed off.

"And what?" Harry asked, cheeks already pinking at the conversation.

"And I rather like hearing you roar." Draco's cheeks reddened as well, but he didn't break his gaze.

Harry's heartbeat picked up. "I don't quite know what to say to that," Harry whispered.

"There's nothing you need to say. I just have an overactive imagination."

Harry snorted. "And thank fuck for that." He thought back to their conversation at the beach that had started this whole thing. Yeah, he was definitely grateful for Draco's sordid fantasies.

Draco smiled, tracing circles on Harry's hipbone. "What do you want to do now?"

"Fancy a walk?" Harry tried. For some reason he really just wanted to go outside and laze about with Draco at his side.

"Shower, then walk?" Draco suggested and Harry nodded his assent. It felt like it had been days since he'd last showered and some hot water and steam sounded like a dream right then. Especially coupled with the fact that he might be able to convince Draco to come along.

"Shower together?" Harry asked running light fingers down Draco's chest.

"I suppose that would be acceptable," Draco said, smiling gently. Harry's heart skipped powerfully at the lazy acceptance in Draco smile. It was very much like he was dozing in a ray of warm sunlight and it made him want to curl up like a cat and take a nap.

But instead, he took Draco's hand and led him into the bathroom off to the right of the bedroom. Much like the rest of the suite, the bathroom was designed to resemble a tropical paradise. The shower stall could easily fit 3 or 4 adults and had a showerhead the size of a dinner plate overhead. Harry flicked his wand in the direction of the shower to get the water started and leaned his bare bottom on the counter while he waited. Draco was over by the towel rack, fingering the soft white cotton and looking up at the ceiling. Well, technically there wasn't a ceiling. Reminiscent of the Hogwarts Great Hall, the bathroom of Harry's bungalow was bewitched to reflect the weather outside. And just like every other day they'd spent in paradise so far, the sun was shining amidst a bright blue sky, with nary a cloud in sight. If he squinted, he could see some of the postal birds flying overhead.

The sunlight from above shone down on Draco's face and Harry's breath caught in his throat. Like the first night when he and Draco had walked together to dinner, he found himself transfixed by the sight of the blond's face so open and honest. Cliché as it was, he looked perfectly angelic. Harry couldn't help but think it was a far cry from the mischievous expression his one-time nemesis always seemed to sport in Hogwarts.

"What are you staring at?" Draco asked, moving over to the door of the shower.

"You," Harry answered with no qualms.

Draco reddened and muttered something that Harry couldn't quite hear. "What was that?"

"I called you a deviant," Draco answered.

"I'll show you deviant." Harry placed his hands on Draco's bare shoulders and gently pushed him into the stall.

The door slid closed behind them and Harry sighed under the water. The heat felt amazing and must have been charmed to ease his sore muscles.

Draco caught his expression and grinned. "Feels fantastic, doesn't it?"

Harry moaned. "Bloody hell it does."

"Is this your first time taking a shower here?" Draco asked, quirking a speculative brow.

Harry half-heartedly shoved at Draco's shoulder while leaning against the wall. "No prat. But I guess I hadn't had enough physical activity to really appreciate it."

Draco gave a feral grin and spoke. "You'll be a getting a thorough workout if you keep up with me." Draco's voice turned deep and stirred arousal in Harry's stomach.

"Sweet talker," Harry said in a breathy voice and moved in to caress Draco's flank. The blond sighed into the touch and moved them both so that they were directly under the spray of the water. For several moments, they stood there under the warm droplets, embracing each other in silence.

Some time later, Draco spoke. "This doesn't constitute getting clean you know," he piped up from where his head was resting on Harry's shoulder.

"No, I suppose not," Harry said groggily. With lazy movements, he pulled the soap from the nook built into the stall and lathered up a flannel. Catching Draco's eye, he pressed the other man against the wall and began diligently washing his body, paying particular attention to Draco's groin. While he took note of the way the blond's manhood was hardening he didn't want this little episode to be about that. In some small way he wanted to show Draco how much their intimacy had meant to him. Even if it never went any further than this, the man at least deserved to know that Harry appreciated the time they'd spent together so far.

When he returned to a standing position, Draco's eyes had fluttered closed and Harry smiled while he moved the blond closer to the flow of water to rinse him off.

"Have you considered doing this as a career?" Draco mumbled finally, sounding as though he were coming back from a faraway place.

Harry chuckled as the last bit of suds ran down Draco's body and collected at the drain on the floor. "I don't think anyone would pay me to be their professional showerer."

Draco cracked open that lone gray eye again. "You'd be surprised. Especially in a place like this. Bet it would have lots of great perks."

"If you're talking about sex, and I assume you are, I should inform you that I have no immediate plans to provide anyone's happy ending." He wrung out the flannel and began sudsing up for his own body. Draco took the cloth from him and began returning the favor.

"Not even for me?" Draco asked as he ran the soapy material along Harry's chest.

"Of course for you," Harry said, a tad too eagerly. "But you're different."

"How so?" Draco mumbled.

"You're not some stranger that's paying me for my services. This is a mutual consent type of thing. Right?" he asked nervously.

"Of course," Draco replied. He had finished up Harry's arms and was now working on his abdomen, lingering, Harry noticed, on his hip bones. "Trust me, I would not be here right now if I didn't consent fully to what we're doing."

Harry laughed weakly, distracted by Draco's ministrations. "Glad to hear it."

If only Draco knew just how glad Harry was that Draco was one-hundred percent in this.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Draco and Harry were showered, dressed, and walking along the shoreline in the late afternoon sun. They'd decided to go down to Harry's private section of beach just off the patio, instead of dealing with the crowds on the main beach. As they walked along, their hands bumped against one another every now and again. Harry wondered what it would be like to walk hand in hand with the blond and was plotting on how to make it happen.

"Are you listening to me?" Draco stopped in his tracks and turned to face Harry.

"Course," Harry lied, but made up for it by darting his hand out and grabbing the other man's, unwilling to look at his face, but pulling him along to continue walking along the beach.

Draco shot him a look, but didn't drop his hand or question Harry any longer.

When they reached a perfect section of the beach they sat down, side by side in the sand. Harry shucked off his sandals and dug his toes into the warm sand. He was growing fonder of spending time on the beach and wasn't quite as self-conscious or irritated. He didn't know if he was just getting used to it or if it was Draco's presence that made the hot sand almost enjoyable.

"Can I ask you something?" Draco asked suddenly.

"Sure," Harry said carelessly, closing his eyes against the setting sun.

"What have you been doing since the war?"

Oh.

Harry hadn't been expecting quite so heavy a conversation during their supposed fancy-free walk down the beach.

"As far as what?" Harry hedged.

"Everything, I suppose. How did you cope with it all? That was-" Draco's voice broke a little. "That was an incredibly difficult time. And I think everyone had different ways of dealing with it." He hadn't looked up from the water in front of them and Harry wondered exactly what was going on inside his head.

Letting out a large breath, Harry thought. He didn't know if he wanted to talk about the war. He'd spent so much time grieving and healing that he felt it was better if those wounds stayed closed. But Draco had asked. And he felt like he needed to be completely honest with him. Especially if he wanted them to bond and potentially have more than just a physical connection.

"You're right," he said after some time. "It was incredibly difficult. We all lost so many people." Harry's voice had grown quiet and was barely audible over the roar of the ocean. "I spent some time seeing a Mind Healer. He helped me work through some things. I'm still not one-hundred percent. I don't think anyone who went through what we did will ever be _normal_ , but I think I've gotten pretty close. I was so angry right - right after. I felt like I could have saved more people if I'd just been faster or smarter or more courageous."

When he looked up Draco was looking at him speculatively. "But that's not realistic. You did the best you could and you saved so many lives. The majority of the Wizarding World."

Harry smiled sadly. "But it took me so long to realize that. I can't tell you how many terrible nightmares I've had. Nameless people and friends angry with me that I didn't save them. I still have them sometimes." It was his turn to look out at the water. Though they were loud, the waves looked gentle enough. Like they might wash away Harry's sudden melancholy.

He felt a hand on his and turned his head briefly to see Draco's fingers interlock with his own. Harry smiled at him gently and appreciated the silent gesture of support.

"I thought about leaving the country," Draco admitted quietly. "I knew how hard it was going to be with everyone out to demonize my family when I just wanted to protect them. And I know that we participated in some horrible things, but mother and father are still my family, do you know what I mean?"

Harry nodded, thinking about his makeshift family, the Weasleys. He didn't know if he could just turn his back on them, even if they had done something awful.

"Part of me felt like I needed to stay in order to help make something good out of our family. To turn things around the way they probably should have been ages ago. The other part of me felt like I should stay just to deal with all the abuse. Sort of a deranged way to pay my debts and serve a civil sentence. For so long I felt like I deserved the poor treatment we received."

"You didn't deserve that," Harry chided. "You paid your reparations, you served your community service. People should have left you alone after that."

Draco gave Harry a look that said he was clearly naïve. "I wish that everyone was as logical and understanding as you."

Harry's heart pounded for the blond and at the same time he felt a little anger stir in the pit of his stomach. Even after all these years, Harry couldn't stand injustice. As far as he was concerned, as long as the person served the time they were sentenced to, their crimes would not be forgotten, but at least they would be atoned for.

Tightening his grip on Draco's hand, he pulled him into a standing position.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked in confusion.

"To the water." Breaking out into a run, he dragged Draco along until they were waist deep in the South Pacific Ocean.

"Potter! What are we doing?" Draco laughed, puzzlement crowding his features.

"Washing away our troubles," Harry said simply and hooked a leg behind Draco's knees, making him fall under the water for a moment. Seconds later, a blond head broke the surface of the water and he was met with an expression of competition and exasperation. Harry tried to brace himself for an onslaught, but couldn't get any leverage in the wet sand beneath his feet. Draco tackled him shoulder-first, American football style and they both went back down under the water. Spluttering, Harry grappled with Draco for a few moments until they came back up to the surface laughing wildly.

"You're mad," Harry said, simultaneously coughing and trying to wipe drops of water from his eyes.

"Barking," Draco said with a wide grin. His drenched hair was now hanging limp in his eyes giving him a drowned rat effect, but he looked so darn cute that Harry couldn't help himself. Moving forward as best he could through the rolling waves of water, he grabbed Draco about the hips and pulled him close for a kiss. He could feel Draco's surprise and then delight in the kiss, relaxing his body against Harry's, parting his lips instantly.

Harry sighed as Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders. Around them, waves were still crashing, the sun was still shining, and the breeze was playing lightly over their shoulders. Harry didn't notice any of it. All he could comprehend was the blond in his arms and how very soft and warm his tongue was. And then he thought about the fact that he was leaving in two days. And how he probably wouldn't see Draco again after that.

Mentally shaking his head, he pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He would deal with that later. For now he just wanted to concentrate on their pleasure.


	7. A Sixth Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time:
> 
> Harry sighed as Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders...All he could comprehend was the blond in his arms and how very soft and warm his tongue was. And then he thought about the fact that he was leaving in two days. And how he probably wouldn't see Draco again after that...He would deal with that later. For now he just wanted to concentrate on their pleasure.

**Day Six**

And concentrate they did.

"Fuck Draco," Harry groaned from his perch on the chaise lounge on his patio. He and Draco had spent the night together again only separating long enough for Draco to go back to his bunglalow for a change of clothes. They shared an intimate in-room meal and agreed to spend some time lounging on the patio.

Along the way, Harry had somehow wound up on his knees, facing the back of the chaise, shorts tangled around his ankles. Draco was kneeling on the ground, hands prying Harry's arse cheeks apart while his tongue probed his opening.

Harry bit his bottom lip hard, nearly drawing blood because of the force. Gods, how long had it been since he'd been rimmed? Long enough, he supposed as he writhed under Draco's ministrations. His leaking erection was brushing against the cushion of the seat, bringing him only minimum pleasure. Nothing like the pleasure Draco was currently creating in his southern regions.

Draco's tongue curled around the puckered skin and then probed deep inside before he spoke. "I didn't quite catch that Potter." He brought his lips down to rest on the skin of Harry's bum, puffs of warm breath dancing along it.

"I said fuck Draco." Harry couldn't even be embarrassed. He had found that once he got over the initial discomfort of someone being up close and personal with his anus, he totally lost himself in the act.

He couldn't see Draco because of how they were situated, but he imagined the blond was licking his lips right about now.

The other man squeezed his bum cheeks and then bit down sharply, nearly breaking the skin. Harry hissed out in pained pleasure.

 _"Gods yes Draco!"_ He dropped his forehead to lean on the top of the chaise and closed his eyes, bracing and hoping for another bite.

But a bite didn't come.

Turning his head to look over his shoulder he saw Draco looking at him strangely. "What?" he asked, breath still uneven.

"Did you say something?" Draco asked warily.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look Draco, if you want me to moan and beg for you, all you have to do is say so-"

"No, you dolt. I think you were speaking Parseltongue." Draco's eyes were wide and slightly fevered.

"Was I?" Harry asked, brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, I don't even realize I'm speaking it half the time."

Draco got up so that he was kneeling on the chaise behind Harry, his cock nestled in the crease of Harry's bottom.

"Does that happen often?" Draco's voice had grown darker and deeper than Harry thought he'd heard it this week.

"Not really. Typically only when I'm looking at a snake or in the middle of sex."

This time, Harry felt Draco lick his lips. He could feel the moisture from Draco's tongue against the skin of his shoulder as it flicked out.

"I think I'm going to like this." Draco leaned down a touch and dragged his teeth against Harry's skin before biting down on the skin of his shoulder blade. It wasn't a normal love bite. Much like the bite to his arse, this bite was hard and aggressive, but still extremely satisfying. Harry found himself clutching the cushion of the chaise in an iron grip, probably renting small holes in the material with his ragged nails.

_"That feels so fucking good…"_

He heard Draco whimper behind him and knew he must have lapsed into the sibilant snake language again. And if the hard cock leaking against his entrance was any indication, the sound of it turned his lover on.

Concentrating fiercely, imagining the scaled smooth bodies of snakes in his mind's eye, he tried to speak it again.

_"Merlin Draco, I love how hard you are. The fact that you could probably get off from me speaking Parseltongue alone."_

Draco began thrusting shallowly behind Harry. He could feel the head of Draco's cock burrowing between his arsecheeks, but never hard enough to breach the opening.

Harry wondered what he could do to change that.

Turning his head as much as he could in their awkward position, Harry began kissing along the side of Draco's face, muttering filthy nothings in Parseltongue the entire time.

_"Do you know how gorgeous you are? How desirable? And right now, what I desire, is to have that long pink cock up my arse so deep that I can taste it."_

He inadvertently blushed. Harry knew that was something that he'd never be able to say in English, but it was nice to have an outlet. Draco, who had no idea what he was blathering on about, had broken out into a sweat and looked to be losing his composure completely.

"Harry," he gasped. "I need you. Now."

Harry shivered with pleasure and braced himself on his knees and opened his arsecheeks wide with his hands behind him. "Then have me," he said, the invitation clear.

He wished he could see the look on Draco's face, but imagined he looked somewhat broken at the sheer wantonness of Harry's actions.

"Like this?" his voice was hoarse. "There's no lube."

"Um, are you a wizard or not?"

The silence behind him confirmed his assumption that Draco's cheeks were hot with embarrassment.

Chuckling, Harry held out his hand where a dollop of shiny lubricant appeared instantly. This time he couldn't hold back the urge to look behind him.

Draco was staring at him in wonder. "Where did you learn to do that? Wandlessly, I mean," he asked with a gasp.

Harry grinned and thought back to the awkward sex workshop from a few days back. "This island has taught me a lot of things," he replied mysteriously.

He felt the lube being scooped from his hand a moment later and his opening slicked soon after.

Draco prepared him with trembling fingers and slid inside quickly. They rocked together in the waning afternoon sunlight, Harry's head lolling on the cushions of the divan. He fell endlessly into pleasure as Draco stroked deep into his heat.

The push and pull of their sex vaulted Harry over a peak, and wordlessly, gripping the chair harder than before, he came, his seed painting the cushion. He felt Draco's head drop to his shoulder as the man dug his fingers into Harry's hips and thrust forcefully twice more. Draco's orgasm was louder than Harry's own, but equally powerful as he felt the other man's cock pulsing deep within him.

Harry kept his eyes closed for two reasons as Draco came down from his high and mouthed lazily at Harry's neck. For one, he didn't think he _could_ open them as fatigued as he was. Second, and perhaps more distressing, was the fact that he didn't want Draco to see the moisture that was beginning to accumulate in the corners of his eyes.

* * *

"There's a speed-dating session tonight," Draco said half-heartedly, returning to Harry's room later that evening. Once they'd caught their breath after that last session on the patio, Draco had slipped away to his villa for another shower and something to eat while Harry slept.

Harry's nose wrinkled in confusion. "What's that?"

Draco pushed Harry's feet over and sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's a Muggle thing I learned about last time I was here. You spend five minutes getting to know someone and then switch off to someone else. The idea is to have a bunch of a little dates and eliminate people that you're definitely not interested in."

"But you don't have to date the people afterwards? You can just meet friends?" Harry cocked his head to the side.

The blond shrugged. "I suppose. Though most people here are looking for more than friendship, as you well know."

Harry spent some time thinking about it. Maybe he should go to this speed-dating lark. Because honestly, it probably wasn't healthy to be so attached to one person so quickly. Perhaps getting a little distance from Draco would be a good thing. Besides, the blond had made no mention in wanting this to be an exclusive Resort relationship. Though calling it a relationship was probably pushing it a bit.

"Are you going?" Harry asked, curious.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Not a chance."

"Will you at least walk me over there?" Harry gave his best puppy-dog expression.

Frowning, and with mixed emotions swirling in his eyes, Draco nodded curtly.

* * *

"I still don't know why you think this is a good idea," he muttered later, following Harry closely into the bar turned social club after reluctantly agreeing to speed-date with him.

"I don't necessarily think it's a good idea. But it's something to do and it'll give us a chance to meet other people. And who knows? It might be fun."

Draco moved closer to Harry, almost shielding himself from view and ran an inconspicuous hand along Harry's lower back and arse. "I can think of something fun for us to do," Draco whispered in his ear, warm breath dancing along Harry's skin and causing a pleasant shiver to run though him.

Harry closed his eyes. Just briefly. Long enough to gather his willpower and not allow Draco to drag him back into the room.

"I'm sure you can," Harry said in a husky voice. "But I think we should try anyway. Who knows? You might find someone who's actually interested in you."

He could feel Draco stiffen behind him and replayed his previous sentence in his head and grimaced. That wasn't what he meant at all.

Turning, he caught the flinty look in Draco's eyes. "Draco, I didn't mean that-"

Draco held up a hand, cutting him off. "Just go Potter. I'll see you later." His tone was flat, with the barest hint of anger.

Harry's insides twisted. He had tried to be coy and let on how much he fancied Draco. He in no way meant to imply that he wasn't already interested in the blond.

With a sigh, Harry watched Draco turn abruptly and leave the room. His figure was still tense and Harry fought back the instinct to run after him and apologize. He was probably better off letting Draco vent before approaching him again.

Instead, he turned and took in the venue. The layout was similar to a wedding reception, only with small ornate tables scattered around the room rather than huge banquet tables.

"Hi there Harry," a familiar voice called from his right. He turned to see Bridget approaching him with a bright smile.

Harry smiled back faintly. "Bridget. What's this speed-dating thing all about?" He knew that Draco had explained it to him earlier, but he didn't want to think about the blond right now. Or how he had potentially bollixed things up.

As she outlined how the session would go and thrust an index card and quill at him, Harry allowed himself to take a peek at the other guests that would be attending the session. He recognized several of the faces, including the woman he'd met at the Welcome Dinner, Nell Scotto.

"Evening Harry!" she called from across the room.

Harry gave a tight smile and waved at her briefly before slipping into an empty booth to fill out his questionnaire. The questions were standard: name, age, occupation, and what he was looking for in a partner.

 _A blond who's a wildcat in bed_ , his mind supplied unhelpfully. He shook his head in reprimand and tried to focus on the here and now. Draco was probably back in his villa. Or maybe he'd already found someone else to keep him occupied while Harry was speed-dating.

Gritting his teeth, he completed the form with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

Name: _Harry J. Potter_

Age: _27_

Occupation: _Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Special Missions Coordinator_

Your Idea Partner: _An attractive male who is funny, smart, and unfazed by my status in the Wizarding World._

Leaning one elbow on the table and resting his head in his hand, Harry sighed. Simple as his qualifications were, he doubted anyone would be able to live up to them. Not really. Knowing his luck, he would find someone who met his wants on the surface, but in actuality was conducting interviews with gossip rags around the country.

_How do you know that Draco wouldn't do the same thing?_

Harry scowled. His inner voice was getting on his nerves. It was true that he couldn't be sure if Draco was as genuine as he seemed but...

There was just something about him that seemed to resonate with Harry. Made him feel like an ordinary wizard, instead of the blasted Chosen One.

"Harry?" a male voice said from across the table.

He tore his gaze away from his index card and looked up into Russell's face. It was with a deep and gusty breath that he replied.

"Russell. How have you been?"

The tanned guest settled into the chair at Harry's table as though he intended to stay there for a while. "Quite well, thank you. I have to say though, I didn't expect to see you here today."

Harry couldn't help the eyebrow that raised. "Why is that?"

Russell shrugged. "You've been spending most of your time with Malfoy. Word around the Resort is that you're dating and no one else stands a chance."

"I don't know about all that," Harry started, wondering how Draco would respond to people saying they were boyfriends.

"So you're not together?" Russell asked, moving as though he were going to reach across the table and caress Harry's hand.

Harry moved slightly to pull his hand out of the line of fire. "We haven't put a title on it, but I do fancy him quite a bit."

"How come you're here then?" Russell placed both his forearms on the table and gave Harry a challenging stare.

Harry was composing a response that didn't make him sound mental when an amplified voice echoed through the room.

"Good afternoon. Thank you all for attending the Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort Speed-Dating Soiree. I'm Eden and I will be hosting tonight's event. For those of you unfamiliar, you will fill out your index cards and then will spend exactly five minutes on a date with each participant. During each round, you will keep track of the guests you are most interested in. Now, here at the Resort, we have a special twist at the end of the night. Of the individuals you take note of, the magic woven into your score cards will automatically choose your match. You can always disregard the magic's choice of course, but we find that those most suited to be together end up together at the end of the Soiree."

A pounding started in Harry's chest and worked it's way up until the sound echoed in his head. He hadn't known that someone was going to be chosen for him from all this. Harry had truly thought that he could get away with chatting up a few people and meeting some new friends. He supposed Draco had been right after all.

"Now, when you hear the chime, your date begins. After the five-minute mark, it will ring again and you are to move to your right. I'll let you know when the entire round has been completed and don't forget to fill out your score cards along the way. If we're all set..." Eden raised his wand and golden sparks emitted from the tip with a small chime.

"So Harry, what do you like to do in bed?"

Harry snapped his attention back to Russell and he started at the intense look on his face.

"Um, is that something you always ask on a first date?" he asked with a blush.

"Not typically," Russell replied, "but since this is just a five-minute date, I have to move things along."

Harry laughed against his better judgement. "Be that as it may, I don't really feel comfortable answering those types of questions."

"Is that because you're in a relationship with Malfoy?" Russell's face shined with a shark-like grin.

Harry huffed with exasperation. "We're not in a relationship," he snapped.

Russell chuckled. "Calm down Harry. I'm only joking. But I have to ask, how does someone like Malfoy get someone like you?"

He shrugged in response. "He didn't do anything special. I think that's why I like him. Everyone else tries too hard when they're with me. He's arrogant and smarmy and high-maintenance, but also warm and good-hearted. He couldn't care less about my reputation. I think he just likes spending time with me."

Russell's eyes softened. "I never thought I'd say this, but I suppose I have to wish you and Malfoy the best of luck."

The quizzical expression on Harry's face must have been crystal-clear. "You're obviously smitten with him. Anyone would be barmy not to see that. And as much as I wish it were me, I can't begrudge someone their happiness."

Harry gave a small grateful smile as the five-minute chime sounded through the room. He placed a friendly hand on Russell's shoulder before shifting to the table on his right.

* * *

At the end of the speed-dating event, Harry wound up matched with a twenty-two year old junior Auror from the Irish Ministry. He was more understanding than Harry imagined he'd be. He told him that he was very nice, but that he was already interested in someone else and wanted to see how things went. That was, if Draco still wanted to be with him.

Harry went back to his villa with a stomach full of nerves. He didn't know if the blond was still upset and was a little hesitant to find out. Checking his bravado for once, he opted to send Draco a brief letter, saying that he was back and asking if they could see one another.

Twenty minutes later, a sharp knock on his door jolted him from his position on the couch. Rather than opening the door with his wand, he walked to the front door with trepidation and opened it to see an imperious-looking Draco leaning against the doorframe.

"You owled?" he drawled.

Harry sighed and moved closer to the blond on instinct. "I did. I'm glad you're here." A tentative smile crossed his face, but Draco just continued looking at him.

"Draco, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that and you know it. Stop being melodramatic and come in here."

This brought about a quirked eyebrow, but there was also the ghost of a grin on Draco's face.

"You think because you're the Chosen One that you can speak to me however you like?" Draco asked, moving into the villa as if he owned it.

Harry hung his head and shut the door. "No, there are just some people that you have to be forceful with before they listen."

That earned him a chuckle and he followed Draco into the bedroom without hesitation.

"You're just lucky that I want to listen to you," Draco said and then promptly blushed.

Harry folded Draco into his arms and kissed him lightly. "I honestly am sorry. And that speed-dating debacle was a waste of time."

Draco nuzzled against his cheek. "It would be petty to say I told you so, wouldn't it?"

"It would be." Harry tugged on Draco's hand, pulling them both down to sit on the bed. "But if I hadn't gone, I wouldn't have had that illuminating conversation with Russell."

"What about?" Draco's tone was one of pure curiosity, but he had stiffened in Harry's arms.

Harry shifted so that both of Draco's hands were in his lap and he caressed them gently. "He said that he was happy for me and hoped things worked out for us. You and me."

"Hm," Draco said noncommittally.

"Yeah," Harry forged on, ignoring Draco's silence on the subject. "He said that everyone assumes we're dating."

That got Draco's attention. "Is that what they're saying?"

Harry just nodded.

"And what did you tell him?"

"That we don't have an official title." Harry's throat constricted dangerously, and he tried to swallow around the lump. He hoped he hadn't said the wrong thing. Again.

For long moments, Draco's granite eyes bore into Harry. "Alright then," he concluded, but there were obviously more words behind his tone.

Harry's frustration grew to a breaking point. "Come on Draco. You've been mad at me all night. Can't we just let this go for now and spend some time together? I missed you earlier."

Finally, Harry said the right thing. Draco smiled and clasped his fingers around Harry's. "Perhaps I missed your presence as well," Draco said.

"Oh yeah? You must be barmy missing someone like me," Harry joked, and his grin could not be outmatched.

"Obviously," Draco whispered and leaned in to kiss Harry's lower lip. They spent lazy moments bringing their mouths together in familiar kisses and eventually fell back against the pillows with contented sighs. And as Harry spent the remainder of the night pleasuring Draco, he actively pushed away the fact that he would be going home in a little more than twelve hours.

* * *

Around midnight, the two were still sprawled out on Harry's bed.

"I'm not going to stay tonight if it's all the same to you," Draco said, pulling himself up into a sitting position.

Harry frowned. "Why not? Afraid I'll hear you snore again?" Harry teased lightly. The blond did no such thing, but he wanted to soften the intensity of the question.

Draco pinched him on the thigh and smirked at Harry's resulting yelp. "Hardly. We just have an early day tomorrow and I want to get a good night's rest. I can't do that if you're pawing at me all night."

Harry was a little stung, but was determined not to show it. He figured the blond was still agitated about their earlier tiff.

"Funny," Harry began in a teasing manner he didn't really feel. "Seemed to me that you liked me pawing at you yesterday."

Draco's eyes lit with amusement for a brief second before turning impassive. "Be that as it may, I need to be caught up on sleep for tomorrow."

Harry noticed that Draco wouldn't say that they were leaving tomorrow, just that they had a lot to do. Harry personally didn't see what all they had to do. He only had to pack and that would be done with just a wave of his wand.

Unless Draco was trying to distance himself from Harry. After all, there was no reason for them to grow closer. They were both going to their respective homes and would probably never see one another again.

So Harry should probably just follow suit and pretend that he was less affected than he really was. But it would be hard.

He watched silently as Draco gathered up his clothes from the floor and dressed with a grace that Harry would not soon forget. That damnable denim was sliding up his legs much too quickly for Harry's liking, followed by the stretchy t-shirt. After Draco had combed a hand through his hair, which seemed to inexplicably fall right into place, he looked at Harry uncertainly and shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

Harry knew he should just stay in bed and bid the blond adieu. But he felt that he owed him more than that after the nights they'd spent together talking about their pasts and their fears. Draco deserved more after he'd opened himself to Harry both physically and emotionally.

So Harry stood up, not minding one jot that he was still naked, and crossed over to the doorway where Draco stood. Draco looked surprised and Harry capitalized on that reaction by capturing the blond in a passionate kiss. His lips tingled with unidentifiable electricity and he smoothed his hands down Draco's chest, as he'd done every night this week that they'd spent together.

"I've had a lot of fun with you this week."

Draco gave a tiny smile at Harry's words. "Me too," he said softly.

Harry looked at the other man seriously for a moment, wondering if he should buck all his concerns and just tell Draco how he felt. That there was a connection between the two of them that they'd be stupid to ignore. That Harry was quickly growing accustomed to seeing the blond on the bed next to him and hearing his voice in the middle of the night and the touch of Draco's skin under his fingertips.

But he didn't.

"Be safe going home tomorrow," Harry said, brushing his lips against Draco's one more time.

"You too," Draco said softly, curling his fingers around Harry's bare waist before thinking better of it and bringing his hands back down to his sides.

Harry looked at Draco expectantly. The blond looked contemplative and Harry thought he would say something to end this madness, that he would be stronger than Harry and admit their growing attraction.

But he didn't either.

"Good night." Draco placed a final kiss on Harry's lips and turned to walk through the door and across the sand before Harry could say anything else.

Harry watched his form retreat into the darkness until he was just a shadow moving in the night.

With a great sigh, Harry closed the front door and dragged a hand across his face. Letting the blond walk away was harder than he thought it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter left folks!


	8. Seventh Heaven and Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it kids! Thanks for coming along for the ride!

**Day Seven**

Harry woke up on the last day of his holiday feeling mixed emotions. He missed his friends and would be glad to get back to them and tell them all about his trip. But he would miss this too. The peaceful and relaxed atmosphere of the island had done wonders for Harry's state of mind. He had quickly grown used to waking up to the sounds of jungle birds cawing outside on his patio and the freshness of the ocean air. And he wouldn't lie, he would miss Draco too.

In fact...

Harry jumped out of bed, throwing on the closest clothes he could find. He threw up a hasty Chronos Charm. It was 8:40. As far as Harry knew, the first Portkey didn't leave until 11. Racing along the sand, he tried not to break his neck falling on the scratchy grains and ran full tilt toward Draco's villa. He didn't care that it was early. And he didn't care if he made a fool of himself. He had to see the blond one more time before they left. Huffing on the front step of the edifice, he knocked sharply and then bent at the waist and knees to catch his breath.

He waited for Draco to answer, but there was no sound behind the door.

_No...please..._

Harry straightened up and knocked several more times.

But no one came to open the door. Harry's stomach dropped and to his absolute horror he felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

Gods, this was ridiculous. He was a grown man, he should not be getting this attached to someone he barely knew in school and had been sleeping with on a semi-consistent basis for only four days.

But regardless of how ridiculous it was, that was how Harry felt.

Desperate, he turned tail and jogged toward the main office. Upon entering the building, he was met with several people hustling and bustling around. They looked like they were preparing the Portkeys for the travelers to use that day.

"Good morning Harry," Eden called over to him from behind a tower of paperwork and brochures. "You looking to take advantage of an early Portkey too?"

Harry was crestfallen. "No. People are leaving already then?" Harry asked as if he didn't already know the answer.

"Yes indeed. We had a bloke leave just about twenty minutes ago. Looked like he was in a real hurry."

Harry breathed heavily. _Draco_.

"No, I was just looking to see if someone had left, but it looks like I got my answer." His voice was tight and it caught Eden's attention. He looked at Harry carefully and, as if he could read Harry's emotions, smiled sadly at him.

"Anything else I can do for you before you go?" he asked quietly.

Harry shook his head sadly. "I'm alright. Thank you, I'll see you at 11 for my Portkey." Without looking at anyone, Harry left the office and headed back to his room sullenly.

He sunk down onto his bed upon his return and closed his eyes tightly. He knew that it was no use trying to go back to sleep at this point, but there was nothing else he wanted to do either.

Rest would not come easy.

* * *

At 10:45am, Harry stood up and pointed his wand at his suitcase, watching disinterestedly as clothes folded themselves and stacked up into neat piles. The bag zipped itself up and Harry stared at it. He had no idea what he was going to do when he got back home. He supposed he would be back to spending quality time with his right hand. It was almost as though this trip had been a tease, dangling a relationship that he couldn't have in his face for a week before cruelly ripping it away.

With a shake of his head, Harry shouldered his bag. He was being much too maudlin. It wouldn't do to get upset about leaving Draco. His friends wouldn't understand it and to be perfectly honest he didn't know if he could explain it.

Glancing around the bungalow, he made sure he hadn't forgotten anything and then walked to the front door, closing it softly behind him. He didn't look back because he didn't want to think about his most recent memories. Instead, he walked directly to the main office and waited in queue for the 11am Portkey.

"Harry, are you trying to leave without saying goodbye?" Harry spun around, but realized too late that the voice was feminine.

Phoebe stood four guests behind him, carrying two bags over her shoulders and floating two more low to the ground beside her.

 _I wouldn't be the first one to make an abrupt departure_ , Harry thought dejectedly.

"Sorry, I wasn't even thinking," he said flatly.

Concern crossed her features and she looked ready to say something and then realized that they were trying to hold a conversation across four strangers.

"Um," she said, choosing her words carefully. "Did you two fight?"

Harry gave a dark smile. "No. I wish. He left. Never said a word."

Her shocked expression might have been funny if Harry's insides weren't wringing with despair.

"Harry, I'm sorry."

Harry shrugged and then got jostled forward by the person behind him. The line was moving.

He took a couple of steps forward and then turned to face Phoebe again. "It's fine," he said, hoping that his words sounded more reassuring than he felt right then. "What's going on with you and-"

Harry couldn't finish his statement because at that moment, Cory entered the office and hugged Phoebe from behind. He watched as the older man placed his chin on her shoulder and grinned broadly at Harry.

"How are you Harry? It's been a while."

"Not too bad Cory," he replied with a genuine smile. The huge grin that lit up Phoebe's face as she was embraced was enough to momentarily lift his spirits. "We've all been pretty busy, huh?" He shot a knowing look at the man, ignoring the embarrassed blush growing on Phoebe's face.

"That we have," he replied with a chuckle and squeezed Phoebe tighter.

The trio engaged in light banter as they crept closer to the front of the line. Upon reaching Bridget and the mangy old soda bottle she was holding, Harry hesitated and went back to give fierce hugs to both Phoebe and Cory.

"Keep in touch," he muttered into his new friend's hair. For the second time that day, he found his eyes beginning to sting. He really needed to get his emotions in check. _Bloody Draco_.

"We will," she said with a brilliant smile.

He shook Cory's hand robustly and told him to take care of the girl in his arms. At the responding smile, he turned and moved back to Bridget.

"Thank you for staying with us this week Harry. I hope you enjoyed your holiday."

Harry gave her his best forced smile. It wasn't her fault that Draco had gone. "I had a really wonderful time. I might even do it again sometime."

He didn't necessarily know if that was true, but felt obligated to say so. Maybe he would come back. Though he doubted he would ever meet anyone like Draco here again.

"I hope that you do. Thanks again and safe travels."

Harry accepted her hospitable smile and the twinkle in her eyes and reached out to lay a hand on the plastic bottle. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes as the Portkey pulsed and then yanked him through a tunnel of psychedelic colors. Harry fell to his knees upon reaching solid ground and inhaled deeply, in an attempt to regulate his breathing before opening his eyes. He heard his luggage drop behind him a split second after he landed.

And when he did stand up and open his eyes…

He was not at home. He wasn't even at any semblance of home. He was standing on a grassy knoll and he blinked confusedly, wondering if Bridget had accidentally given him someone else's Portkey.

But no. The little minx knew what she was doing.

That building about fifty meters in front of him looked awfully familiar. As did the albino peacocks. And Draco was right, there wasn't a turret on the west side of the house.

 _Fucking Bridget_.

He was at Malfoy Manor.

"That interfering sodding busybody," he muttered under his breath, mind racing while he tried to figure out what to do. He couldn't stand out here. What if Draco was at one of the windows and saw him? He would look like a stalker.

But he couldn't go up to the gates and demand entrance either. Draco had made it quite clear that he didn't want anything further to do with Harry. His best bet was to just Apparate the hell out of there.

Concentrating fiercely, Harry imagined his house and turned on the spot, squeezing through space until he popped out at his front door.

"Thank Merlin," he said, leaning his head against the doorjamb, relishing the fact that he was finally at home. After lowering the wards and locks on the door, he stumbled through the portal and was immediately met with Hermione stepping out of his Floo.

Harry threw her a grim smile and collapsed on the couch in the living room. His luggage floated to a miserable stop on the floor next to him.

"What's wrong Harry?" Hermione asked, moving out of the way so that Ron could enter the room as well.

"I know that look," Ron cut in. "Sorry mate."

Harry gave a half shrug and leaned back further into the sofa cushions.

Hermione's head whipped between the two men, a bewildered expression on her face. "What? What's going on?"

"Don't you see?" Ron grinned, clearly enjoying the fact that he'd caught something she hadn't. "This is exactly what he looked like when Cho Chang turned down his offer to go to the Yule Ball."

"Oh." Hermione's expression softened and she sat down next to Harry. "Someone turned you down?"

Harry let out another sigh. "Something like that."

The way things had ended with Draco was not entirely surprising, but Harry still found it to be disappointing. He supposed he had been a bit daft thinking that Draco would really want to pick things up where they left off after coming home from holiday. Before this week, he hadn't even seen the blond in over seven years. He hadn't known where he was living, what he did for a living, or his favorite things. But much to Harry's delight, he now knew what Draco looked like when sleeping peacefully in the middle of the night. He knew how the blond keened when Harry kissed him below the navel. And most importantly, he knew that they could spend more than twenty-four hours together without wanting to kill one another.

But all of that was for naught right now. They'd had an exciting and sex-filled week and Harry had accomplished his goal of getting laid five times over.

Ron and Hermione sat down across from him and waited expectantly. As Harry opened his mouth to speak, he found his voice suddenly inoperable. His eyes widened as he remembered the gag clause.

"Fuck," he said. "I can't tell you. The contract." Hermione and Ron looked disappointed. He supposed they had been looking forward to hearing about his antics as much as he'd been looking forward to sharing them.

"Is it someone we know mate?" Ron asked, leaning his elbows on his knees.

Harry nodded slowly, but was unable to do much more. He wanted to give hints. He wanted to talk about the blond git that used to terrorize them in school and how much he'd changed. He wanted to tell them he'd had several intimate nights with the one person from their past he thought he'd never be close to. But he supposed the magic over the gag clause knew that would make it too easy for them to guess and wouldn't allow him to speak any of those words.

But maybe…

He leapt up from his seat and grabbed a quill and parchment from the desk attempting several times to write phrases on the paper, but couldn't do that either. Each time he touched the nib of the quill to the page, it was as if all the ink had disappeared and nothing was written. He should have known that he couldn't get around the magic that way. Defeated, he crossed back over to the couch and once again sat down with a sigh.

Swallowing heavily, he chose his words carefully. "I met a great guy there. And we spent the last few nights together, dancing and drinking and having sex. He's funny and smart and sexy as hell. And I can't even tell you his name or what he looks like," Harry said, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

Hermione gave him a sad, sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry Harry. I mean, I'm glad that you found someone that you like, but I feel bad that you can't talk about it in the way you want to. Did you two at least make plans to hang out again?"

Harry frowned. "No. I wanted to talk to him about it. But yesterday he was really nonchalant about everything and I didn't want to seem clingy."

Ron let out a low whistle and leaned back into the cushions. "That's tough luck mate."

"No, it's not," Hermione said, a blazing look in her eyes that Harry recognized from when someone else was attempting to best her in class. "It sounds like you've found someone that you really like and I don't think you should give up on him so easily."

"What am I going to do Mione? I can't even tell you about him." Harry rested his arm on the side of his seat and looked at her pathetically.

"No, you can't. But you can talk to _him_. Right? The magic doesn't prevent you from talking to the people you met there. You just can't tell anyone else about it. Why don't you owl him? Let him know how you're feeling? Or," she suggested, catching the look on Harry and Ron's faces at the word 'feeling,' "just ask him if he'd like to see you again. That's not so hard right?"

Harry's heart fluttered madly in his chest. Could he do that? Would Draco revert back to his previous ways and sneer at him if Harry suggested going out on a proper date? Because Gods, Harry really wanted to. The prospect of sleeping alone in his bed tonight, and each foreseeable night in the near future did not give him a good feeling. Just in that short week, Harry had grown accustomed to seeing blond hair spread out on the pillow next to him and didn't think that he would be able to find a random bloke to fill that void.

"It can't hurt to try," Harry said resignedly. But on the inside his stomach was churning with the idea of being shot down.

* * *

_Draco,_

_I hope this letter finds you well._

_So we're both back home and I don't know about you, but I'm very much missing our time in paradise. I have to say it's a little strange not waking up to exotic plants and birds. That short time at EBPR was therapeutic and felt almost like a home away from home._

_The reason for my letter isn't to wax poetic about EBPR but to see if maybe you want to meet up sometime soon. Far be it from me to understand exactly why we hit it off so well while we were in the islands. Maybe it was because we were in the islands. Either way, I would like to spend some more time with you. Owl me back when you have a chance and let me know if you're interested._

_Fondly,_

_Harry_

* * *

Harry tried to mail off his letter to Draco and then forget about it. He went back to work on Monday, diligently avoiding the pile of paperwork that had accumulated in his absence and anxiously waited for the post to arrive. Promptly at 9:45am, a flurry of memos and letters rocketed through the hall, with several pieces detouring into Harry's office and settling into his inbox.

Anxiously, he leafed through the correspondence hoping to see an elegant script on the outside of an envelope. But it was no use. There was no message from Draco to be found. Although…he was at work. Who's to say that Draco wouldn't have just replied to his message and sent it to his home address? In fact, that made more sense.

Confidence restored, Harry resolutely stared at the clock until the end of the day when he could check his own mail at home.

But there wasn't a letter for him at home when he arrived that day. Or the next day. Or the week after.

Maybe Hermione had been wrong and he actually wasn't able to correspond with anyone from the Resort. But he knew logically that wasn't true, because he'd received a nice (and long) letter from Phoebe already. The truth of the matter was that Draco just wasn't interested in pursuing anything further with Harry outside of the bounds of a tropical island. He tried not to let it bother him. After all, it had only been a week-long fling. Why get so wrapped up in it?

In fact, he should do something to take his mind off of it. Which was why he was now currently making plans to hang out with Phoebe and Cory, whom Harry was glad to see, were still going strong. Her latest letter had tried to sound encouraging, but only made Harry depressed.

_Harry,_

_I'm so excited that we'll all be hanging out together, though I have to admit that I wish Draco were coming too. You guys seemed to fit together so well and I'm disappointed that you haven't been able to reach him._

_If you decide to hunt him down, let me know. I'm always up for a good stake-out mission._

_Otherwise, Cory and I will see you at the pub next week._

_Take care and keep your head up,_

_-P_

* * *

Continuing on with his methods of denial and avoidance, he had made plans for each day that week. Since he'd returned from holiday three weeks ago it felt like his house had turned into Azkaban. Well no more. Harry refused to become a prisoner in his own home.

Proud of his new plan, he dragged himself out to Diagon Alley to meet up with George at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He walked into the shop with a sense of relief and grinned widely when he saw George flagging him down near the back.

"Harry! How goes it? I haven't seen you since you got back. Have you been avoiding me?" George admonished with a smile.

"He's been avoiding the world," Ron chimed in, moving towards them in the middle of the shop from where he'd been shelving merchandise. Hermione peeked out from around Ron's shoulder too.

"That's not true," Harry started and then faltered at Hermione's glare. "Alright, I've been a bit gloomy because I haven't been in touch with a bloke I met at the Resort."

"He won't respond to Harry's letters," Hermione said quietly, as though that would take the hurt out of her words.

"Oh, that's bad luck. Well, if you want, we can go out this weekend and - what the hell?" George asked incredulously, looking at a point over Harry's shoulder. Turning around curiously, Harry came face to face with Draco Malfoy for the first time in a month.

"Oi Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Ron called, but Draco ignored him.

"Shut up Ronald," Hermione whispered, watching the silent exchange between Draco and Harry with interest.

Harry was dumbfounded. The blond looked just as gorgeous as he had in paradise, even if he was wearing wizarding robes and not the tight denims Harry had grown so fond of.

Draco seemed to steel himself and then walked further into the shop, making a beeline for Harry. Harry stood stock-still, vaguely wondering what was going on and then not caring the next minute because Draco had taken him by the waist and kissed him passionately.

And if Harry could explain it, he would say that the kiss was Draco's attempt to convey everything he felt about Harry. Passion, frustration, lust, and maybe a desire for something more.

Harry melted into the kiss, leaning his torso against Draco's because he didn't know if he could stand on his own anymore. He could feel the dumbstruck eyes of his friends burning into the side of his face and the back of his head, but he didn't care right now. All that mattered was that Draco had come to find him.

"I'm sorry," Draco said after he pulled back from Harry's face.

"What for?" Harry asked dazedly. He was still stunned by both the kiss and the fact that he was being held in Draco's arms once again.

"I'm sorry for being a prat and for not responding to your letter and for letting you walk out of the Resort without telling you how I feel. I might have gotten a stern talking to from Bridget and Eden."

Well. Perhaps the busybodies had done something right after all.

"I could have said something too, I was just scared you would turn me down." Harry ran his fingers through the silky blond hair he'd missed so much over the last several weeks.

"Yes, but you were brave enough to send me a letter. I was the one who sat on it for weeks before I could come to grips with how I felt and gather up the courage to come see you." Draco's gray eyes shone with honesty.

"You're here now," Harry said softly.

"I'm here now."

And that was all that mattered.

They smiled at each other for a few moments until a throat clearing got their attention. Harry had momentarily forgotten about their little audience.

"And how do you feel about him Malfoy?" George asked with a mischievous grin.

Harry turned around to face Draco immediately, wondering how the blond would respond to innocent Weasley-brand ribbing. He saw a smirk begin to form and his stomach dropped.

"Not that it's any of your business Weasley, but I happen to like Harry a lot. And I want to spend more time getting to know him. One week wasn't enough."

"It's our business when you come in here snogging blokes," Ron muttered darkly and looking slightly green.

But Harry wasn't paying attention. He was letting the magic of Draco's words wash over him like a light mist on a humid day. Draco wanted the same things Harry did. He wanted them to spend more time together too. And he'd openly admitted to liking Harry. In front of people he didn't particularly care for to boot. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt optimistic. Maybe his bed wouldn't be cold and lonely anymore.

"You really feel that way?" Harry whispered, hardly daring to hope.

"Yes, you great sod. Stop fishing for compliments."

Harry poked him in the side and they both grinned at each other goofily. "I feel the same way," Harry confirmed, leaning in for another brief kiss.

"Well now that the great mystery has been solved, can you two please explain how this whole thing came about in the first place?" Hermione asked. She looked as though she'd been dying to ask the question for years.

"Yeah Harry. And I hope you haven't forgotten my request from before you left. I would definitely not mind a Pensieve memory of how this little tryst began." George gave Draco an appraising look that made him pale and caused Harry to flush with embarrassment.

Obviously this relationship was going to be a challenge, but Harry thought he was up for it. Besides, if things ever got too rough, they could always take another vacation.

* * *

**Epilogue**

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I trust that you enjoyed your recent stay at Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort. The staff and I thank you for taking the time to visit and hope that you will suggest our getaway to all of your friends._

_Of course, you can always join us again in the future. Our next stop will be in the Cayman Islands. Though, if the picture enclosed is any indication, you probably won't need to..._

_Thank you again for your patronage!_

_Eden DuCorps and Bridget Mendau_

_Owner and Proprietor and Staff-Guest Liaison_

_Eden's Bodily Pleasures Resort_

Harry looked down in awe at the small wizarding photo in his hands. Stamped across the bottom was a disclaimer that the picture would vanish after ten minutes to protect the privacy of the guests. He wasn't even going to waste time wondering how the picture came into being in the first place. The administrators at EBPR were too sneaky for their own good.

The photo itself was of Harry and Draco from the fifth day of their holiday. They were standing waist-deep in the ocean grinning at each other, when the miniature Harry reached out and pulled miniature Draco in for a kiss.

A tender smile graced Harry's face as he watched the photo replay several more times. Moving into the kitchen to finish brunch with Draco, Phoebe, and Cory, he thought about Eden's words. If things went his way, he wouldn't be going to the Resort again. Why would he when he already had a little slice of paradise at home?

~fin~


End file.
